Reversal of Fortune
by Rap541
Summary: What if Season three went a little differently? Like... Criss Cross Applesauce different? *I really have to thank Rachel Smith Cobleigh for (insert edit) making it a better story :D
1. Chapter 1

Sybil found him exactly where she knew he'd be, sitting on the stone bench in the churchyard. She paused at the gate to draw in a deep breath. Entering this place always took something from her, and she had to draw up her courage.

She crossed the grass, walking along the row of gravestones, and quietly took her customary seat beside him, pausing for a moment in respectful silence. Two gravestones stood before them, marriages over before they even really had the chance to start, and she was certain Edith was making the situation worse if the phone call she'd overheard was true

She supposed it was true. It was at best a disgustingly cruel joke if it wasn't, but such cruelty wasn't Edith's style. It meant things had to change. Now Sybil had to take things in hand. Life was for the living. Matthew had made that same point to her not so long ago. The reminder had hurt, but it had been what she needed and now she needed to shake him out of his own despair. She took his hand gently, and reassured when he squeezed it.

She spoke, in a soft, and gentle tone, because she doubted he could face much more. "I know you're in terrible pain but this has to stop. You're alive and she is not. I know exactly how it feels to have the person you love the most ripped from you in the blink of an eye. That's why you have to listen to me. I know what you're going through and this, this isn't what she wanted or expected of you. Sitting by her grave in the cold and the rain… It won't bring her back and it's not what she ever wanted or expected for you. If you think I don't know that you're trying to catch your death of cold, guess again." It was worse than that but she was willing to go slowly.

Matthew stared unblinking at the grey stone before him, the lines of his face fixed and the corners of his mouth pulled down. After a long moment, he finally said, "I'm not trying to catch my death of cold." He swallowed. "I just… I was going to walk into town and then I saw the church. And then… I got lost in thought." He sighed. "It's hard finding things to do with myself. By myself."

"You have a baby, a child who needs you," she said quickly. A child he could barely hold without weeping. She understood that sensation all too well.

"The nanny Robert and Cora hired does everything." Matthew answered softly. He spoke with new determination, as if he had come to some sort of decision. "Robert and Cora would gladly raise him. They need him, I can see it in their eyes."

"George needs _you_ , Matthew. Mama and Papa are trying so desperately hard, but they need you too. Your mother needs you. She's so worried about you. We _all_ need you." Sybil paused, eyeing him closely. "Do you remember when you found me here, a month after the accident? You said it was fine to cry and be sad but not to forget that little Kate still needs a mother especially now that her father is gone. Well, little George still needs a father, especially now that his mother is gone." Sybil gripped Matthew's hand tightly. "I need you. When… when Tom died, you were the one who held us all together. You and Mary threw me a lifeline and refused to give up until you pulled me out of the ocean of my despair… And when Mary died," Sybil's breath caught because it had been such a shock, was still such a shock that one moment Mary had been holding her baby son and the next she was convulsing. "When Mary died, we were all reeling so hard, we just let you grieve and grieve and none of us stepped in." She chuckled, despite it all. "I think it was in all of our minds that Mary would step in and set you to rights. It sounds daft, I know."

After a moment he nodded and chuckled slightly. "I know," he said after a moment. "I keep turning my head and expecting to see her, and have her soundly chastise me for being so maudlin."

She squeezed his hand. "It's my turn to throw the line, and it's your turn to grab ahold. I'm not saying to not grieve, but it's time to let yourself be happy again. Mary didn't want you to be miserable and unhappy. She didn't plan for this, she didn't plan to leave you, no more than Tom planned to leave me. But you need to come back to us and you need to start living again."

Matthew was quiet for a long moment. "I don't… I don't know how. Every plan we made, it was the two of us."

"Then start simply." She stood up and offered her hand. He eyed it a moment, then clasped it and allowed her to pull him to his feet. She stood back and gestured at his clothing. "We're going to the house. You're going to change because you're soaking wet and then you're going to pick a new bedroom. Sleeping in your dressing room is depressing. You need a change of scenery." Truth be told, they all needed to stop treating Mary's bedroom like an untouchable shrine. It wasn't healthy for any of them.

"All right…" He sighed heavily. "I'd thought of moving back to Mother's, just to get some perspective but I didn't want to take George away from Cora and Robert. Perhaps I could take one of the rooms closer to the nursery." Then he seemed to really look at Sybil for the first time, and his brow furrowed in worry. "Sybil, what's wrong?'

She hesitated, but only for a moment. Tom had always liked Matthew, in part because Matthew was usually much quicker than her father to figure things out. Matthew also worked better in a crisis. This latest crisis wasn't major, not in comparison to her husband dying in a car accident the day after their daughter was born, or Matthew's wife dying in childbirth, but it was at the very least a distraction from Mary's death. "Papa got a phone call from Edith. She's decided to run off with Michael Gregson to Germany of all places. Did you know he is married and his wife is insane? He's going to Germany to get a divorce and Edith is joining him."

Matthew actually smiled. "You didn't think to lead with that? I assume your father is enraged and is planning to go directly to Germany to drag her back."

"Mama, actually. Papa seemed more resigned." And angry that, as he had put it, Edith had picked the worst time imaginable to behave like a child. Sybil didn't know if she agreed. Edith had been unhappy for some time. Michael Gregson _did_ seem to love her and it wasn't as though Downton was such a cheerful place to be these last few months. Edith wanted love and her own family and she wasn't being overwhelmed with offers from more suitable candidates. "I didn't lead with that because I wanted you to hear what I had to say first. I want you to return to us because we care about you, and I want you to start living again, not just because you can distract yourself when there's a problem to solve. I meant what I said." She held out her hand. "You pulled me out of the water when I was drowning. Please let me help you."

After a moment, he took her hand. She hoped it was the start he needed. He had been a grieving shadow for far too long, made worse that he was expected to soldier on while the family had been perfectly content with her taking two weeks to numbly cry. The most that had been demanded of her was nursing dear little Katie and that bright spark of joy wasn't an example Matthew could emulate. She remembered that all too well and in following the family tradition of letting Mary, and Matthew by proxy, have her way, they were allowing Matthew to sink into despair.

Sybil Branson simply wasn't going to allow that.

0o0o0o0

It felt so wrong, taking his things out of the dressing room, he was certain that it would do nothing to ease his aching heart, but it was something to do on a dark dreary afternoon. The new room was bigger than the dressing room, and decidedly more masculine, no doubt if Robert had sons instead of daughters, it would have suited a young man very well. There was a desk, and an armchair by the window and it was near the nursery. He hung several of his suits in the wardrobe and then went down the hall to the nursery. He worried about little George. He ducked in to the room. Nanny West was seated, doing some knitting while the two babies slept in their cribs. Little Katie looked to favor both her parents when she got older but there was no question that George was the very image of him. He wasn't sure if that was God being kind or cruel.

He strode back down the hallway to his old room. Mosesley was still fussing with some shirts. "Mosesley," Matthew said easily, "I can finish up here. Why don't you find something to read in the library? A rainy day is a good day for reading."

Mosesley nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Crawley. I'll make sure the new room is sorted." The older man hesitated. "Are you all right, Mr. Crawley?" Mosesley looked embarrassed and awkward. "If you don't mind my saying so, I think this… this will help you and I'm glad you're stepping forward. I can't imagine how painful it's been. I've been worried about you, we all have."

"Thank you, Mosesley," he said, meaning it. It touched him in a surprising way. It never occurred to him that any of the house staff even liked him, the way most of them scurried away from him. "I admit, that comes as a surprise."

"It's… awkward, sir." If anything, Mosesley seemed more nervous. "Mr. Carson considered Lady Mary to be… the child of his heart, even if there was no blood between them and he's quite devastated and…"

"And he blames me for her death because I got her with child and that's what killed her," Matthew finished. "And he's the butler and has the power to torment anyone who doesn't agree with him. I'll talk to Robert about it."

Mosesley looked stricken. "I wasn't… That wasn't my intent. To tattle. Mr. Carson is… grieving terribly."

Matthew sighed. "I know. And he's not thinking something that I haven't thought myself, but his right to grieve doesn't allow him the right to inflict his pain on others." God knew having the old man glaring at him every meal made everything taste like ashes, but he suddenly understood why his valet looked so concerned. "Don't worry, Mosesley, his lordship has been worried about Carson. He's not going to sack the poor fellow over his grief." If anything, Robert would probably send the poor man on some sort of enforced vacation.

Again Moseley hesitated. "It's not my place but… you know it wasn't your fault, Mr. Crawley? Lady Mary wanted a child, very much."

A rush of anger rose in him, but he forced it away. Mosesley was trying to be kind. Mosesley wasn't one of Mary's intimates, he wasn't to know that Mary had wanted children mostly because it was required that he produce an heir. Matthew could admit only to himself that he had wished until the moment George was born that the baby was a girl, so that Mary would be willing to have another. "Whoever's fault it was, this is where we are now. Go on, Mosesley, enjoy the rest of the afternoon before I find us another pointless chore."

He waited until the man was gone to step into the bedroom proper. It was as neat as a pin. Anna no doubt had put everything in order. No, he reminded himself, not Anna. Anna had been too upset. Madge then, or possibly Mrs. Hughes herself. Someone had moved all of his things to the dressing room so that he'd have no reason to look at her things. He took a seat on the edge of the bed. Her shoes were there, peeking out from under the bed. Whoever had picked up the room had missed them, no doubt because Mary had kicked them off disdainfully. He picked them up and looked at them.

"Are you all right, Matthew?" He looked up at the sound of Sybil's voice. She was standing in the doorway. In seconds though, she was seated at his side. "I'm glad you're taking my advice. What have you got?"

"Mary's shoes…" He tried to smile. "She… hated these shoes. My ugly baby flats, she called them. She didn't mind that I was taller than her, she liked that, but she also liked being close to eye to eye with me. Dr. Clarkson told her to stop using heels and she did, and whenever we went walking, she'd remind me how she intended to throw these out as soon as the baby was born." I'm not going to cry, he told himself. I'm not going to cry because Sybil has her own troubles, her own grief, and she's taken the time because she's worried. "I suppose I shouldn't just let her clothes and things sit here. Don't you or Edith want some of her clothes or jewelry?"

For a surprise, Sybil began to laugh. "Oh Matthew, you're certainly not a woman. You're just like Tom, you have no idea."

He decided to play along. It was good to see someone laugh, especially Sybil. "I've never had it questioned that I wasn't a woman… but how am I like Tom?"

She chuckled again. "You have no idea how complex a woman's clothes are. You could lend Tom a shirt or a jacket and it might hang a little off but it would look well enough. It's not the same for women. Mary and I are both slim but she was several inches taller. Her clothes would look all wrong and too big on me. And while Edith and Mary were closer in height, Edith has a… a fuller figure. Even done up with the corset extra tight, she'd pop the seams. And Mary's style wasn't hers or mine for that matter. And Edith's on her way to Germany…"

"You're right, I had no idea," he said after a moment. "Still," and he gestured to the full wardrobe, "it seems silly to just let everything sit here. What did you do with Tom's things?"

"I kept a few things I knew he liked or that I liked seeing him in." She put her hand on his, gripping it reassuringly. "His cap, the jacket he liked to wear when he was walking about the estate, some of his ties… and I gave the rest to one of the charities your mother works with. There's all those refugees from Russia coming in." She stood up suddenly. "This isn't something you need to decide today. Granny has come for tea so we need to show off the great grandchildren and prepare for the row at dinner that neither of us is to blame for."

Matthew also rose. "Actually, I'm afraid I knew about Michael Gregson being a married chap and interested in Edith. It just… has been the furthest thing on my mind. It's funny, really…"

"Funny? Delightfully shocking is how Cousin Rose has put it," Sybil said. "I didn't think Edith had it in her… and here she is topping Tom and I by running off to Germany. We at least went to a slightly respectable place."

"It's funny because I'm glad for her," Matthew said. "Michael does love her, and if she's willing to go to Germany with him, then she must love him. She deserves that, to be happy."

"So do we, Matthew. So promise me you won't tell Papa you knew anything about this. It's bad enough we're going to be yelled at."

"Maybe just you," Matthew said. It was nice to be able to talk about something, anything that wasn't Mary. "I mean, maybe I did catch a cold. Perhaps I should go lie down in my new bedroom and rest."

She grabbed his arm. "Oh no you don't. I am not facing them alone."


	2. Chapter 2

She had expected Matthew to turn her in to Robert the night he caught her coming back into the house in maid's garb after turning away the sweet boy who had fought for her at the servants dance. Instead, he had taken her to the library and… treated her like an adult. If you're going out to these dances because you truly want a man that is different from the ones you've been encouraged to see, he said gently, that's one thing. If you're simply going out to see what will happen when you turn on the charm, that's another thing entirely. Men aren't toys to be played with, he had warned her. You wouldn't like it if a man treated you the same. Rose suspected he had a point there. Best of all, he hadn't made any mention of it to Cousin Robert.

It meant she owed him a favor, and that was something Rose took quite seriously. Particularly since Matthew had been so terribly sad for so long. Everyone had been sad, everyone had every right to be sad with all the tragedies, but Matthew had been drowning in his sorrow since Mary had died. It had taken Sybil prodding and pulling him to get him back to some semblance of normal, that was part of why Rose had been surprised that Matthew had even noticed her.

Sybil was the person to ask, she decided, as she watched Sybil enter the room and join them at the breakfast table. Sybil knew Matthew better than she did, and as the slightly older woman took a seat, Rose knew she wasn't the only one who was pleased to see Sybil wearing muted, dark colors, but colors just the same. It was a good sign. Sybil certainly wasn't the sort to throw out her black dresses and begin dating at six months on, but with it close to a year since Tom Branson had died, she had more than done her duty to the memory of her dead husband. Now out of official mourning, Sybil could be asked to help without anyone taking her to task over bothering her young widow cousin.

She waited until later that day to broach the topic when the two of them went on a walk into town. "Sybil, I need your help. Cousin Matthew has been a good friend to me these last few months. I want to do something nice for him. Like…. Oh I don't know, maybe a surprise party, or some sort of fun outing. What do you think?"

Sybil smiled but was quiet for a long moment. Finally she spoke, her tone careful. "I think it's admirable that you want to do something nice for Matthew… But he's not really the party sort, Rose. Dinner parties, dancing, and hunting weekends… that was more about his wanting to please Mary or letting Mary have her way. Mary liked parties and hunting and horses. She never did manage to get him up on a horse for fox hunting, but she did get him to ride, for example, but it's not something he enjoys."

"Matthew rides?" Rose asked. She giggled. "I can't really imagine that."

Sybil laughed as well. "He's not awful. He just learned to ride as a schoolboy and never kept up with it past his schooling because he didn't have the time. But to get back to my point, he's not much for parties. Especially now with Mary gone… but it's just not his taste." She smiled wistfully. "He and Tom were a lot alike. I miss listening to the two of them arguing some new idea or political movement while Papa glowered at both of them."

"What does he like, then?" Rose had to admit, she hadn't really considered what Cousin Matthew actually liked. Since Mary's death, he had been a shadow filled cypher. She doubted Matthew had managed a smile for anyone but George in the first six months after. Sybil had dragged him back to the world of the living to where he wasn't quite so sad, but in truth, he had been morose and silent for so long, one of the reasons she thought he wouldn't be so kind about her indiscretion was just his general dour mood.

"Oh Matthew likes clever things, Rose." Sybil said easily, like it was obvious. "He likes puzzles, and strategy. He plays chess, you know. And he likes to read, and he likes to dig his heels into problems and find solutions, and finding the truth in a matter. I think that's what he likes about being a lawyer." More quietly, she added, "I think he loved Mary so much because she was a clever puzzle that he wanted to understand."

"Did she love him for the same reason?" Rose asked. That Mary and Matthew had been madly in love had been obvious.

Sybil laughed. "No… I forget you weren't here for their endless courtship." She took Rose's hand as they walked. "I am glad you came to stay with us, Rose. I've always been the little sister and it's quite nice to get to be the big sister for a change. We've needed you here. I've needed you. Sometimes it's very hard to remember that there are reasons to be happy but you have been a source of joy to everyone in the house. I hope you know that." Rose blushed shyly at the praise. Sybil pressed forward. "Mary loved Matthew because I think he was the first man who ever expected her to be more than an ornament on his arm. He took her seriously, he loved her but he didn't let her toy with his feelings, and he was probably the first man in her life that wanted to be around her without having an ulterior motive. Believe me that can be intoxicating."

Rose nodded. "I may not have the advantages of some of the wealthier girls but I have met the sort of man who cares more about my lineage and my dowry than anything else."

Sybil's voice took on a more serious tone. "I know your season is coming and I know it's exciting but you do need to start to consider what kind of man you want." She hesitated. "Are you…. Interested in Cousin Matthew?"

Rose almost laughed but stopped herself when she realized Sybil was being serious. "He's still mourning, and he's… so much older than I."

"I'm glad we're talking then, because I can tell no one has broached this with you." Sybil said it matter of factly. "Everyone has been so grief stricken, I think we've all been ignoring your upcoming season and we really shouldn't. Rose, you do understand that most of the eligible men for the dances and events are going to be either very young men, badly wounded veterans, or men even older than Matthew? I know you want a young, handsome fellow for a husband but you may want to broaden your net. Someone like Matthew would be a welcome catch. You could do much worse, you know. Yes, he's thirty five and a widow, but plenty of girls are wed to men in their fifties and sixties. He's wealthy and clever, and he's determined to modernize the estate even if he has to argue with Papa incessantly. And he's good looking and titled." Sybil shook her head. "Now that I think about it, I should probably talk to him or at least to his mother. People will expect him to return to the field, so to speak, and he's a very eligible bachelor now. By the time your season starts, he won't be considered to be in mourning and I don't think he's even considered the reality that he's now…"

"The belle of the ball, so to speak," Rose said, giggling. "Poor Cousin Matthew… I doubt very much that he's even interested in pursuing a woman, let alone being pursued." She gave Sybil a knowing look. "Are you… interested in being pursued? I can't help but notice you're wearing colors."

Sybil smiled slightly. "No, I'm not husband hunting, Rose. I loved Tom very much and I always will… But Tom wouldn't want me spending the rest of my life wearing black and missing him. I know that in my heart. I'm not seeking another husband, because I know who is currently available and I didn't fancy any of them before I met Tom, so they're not likely to please me now… but if I did find love again, I wouldn't ignore it. You can tell Mama that if she asks you, I know she's been worried."

Rose nodded. Cora wasn't worried, exactly. More curious about what Sybil planned to do. Unlike Matthew, Sybil was a woman of 25, still young. But she was a widow with a child and while she was hardly destitute, she was in a similar position as Rose was. A worse position really, because some people would hold marrying the chauffeur against her. It would relieve Cora to know that Sybil hadn't ruled out remarriage. An idea formed in her mind as they walked but she didn't voice it. Not yet, she told herself, it would be lovely if I was right, but there was a lot of baggage to get out of the way. I need to be certain there's a spark. Out loud she said, her voice bright, "I still have the problem I started with. I want to do something nice for Cousin Matthew. He could have gotten me into a lot of trouble with Cousin Robert and didn't, and even if I don't want him to court me, I still need to thank him."

Sybil nodded. "You're lucky Papa didn't find out about your sneaking out to the servant dances. I hope you got that out of your system. As for Matthew… We'll go to the bookstore. I was planning to get Kate and George a new story book, and you can find Matthew a new novel that he can read while he's on the train to Ripon for his job. Something fun." She grinned. "He quite likes those mystery books by Doyle, and I **know** he's been planning to pick up that Jack London book, he just hasn't been able to get to the book store."

Rose mentally checked off a point on her mental list. Sybil knows what Matthew likes, she mused. "May I ask, Sybil… Did you ever consider Matthew?"

If there had never been a flicker of interest, then her sudden musing was just that, and could go no further. But, if Sybil had been interested…

"Oh, not really, Rose," Sybil said, her tone almost shy. "It was just such a different time. Mary was supposed to marry Patrick, and then when he died and Matthew came to Downton… I was a still a girl while Mary and Edith were women, and my reaction was very similar to yours, that he was much too old for me and wouldn't find a girl interesting, not when Mary was there." Rose could hear a certain amount of pique enter Sybil's voice. "Mary drove me crazy, truth be told. She was so against Matthew at the start and all I could think was that didn't understand what she was complaining about. He was clever and had modern opinions, and he's not hideous, and Mary was acting like she was being forced to marry some Australian sheep farmer. And Matthew almost always looked at me like I was a little girl."

"Almost always?" I knew it, Rose thought triumphantly.

Sybil laughed as they walked, almost girlishly. "There was one time… Rose, have you ever felt your power as a woman?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," Rose did wonder where she was going.

"That one time… It's so silly because I was already in love with Tom. I didn't even really realize it until later that night." She gave Rose a knowing look. "I tricked Tom into driving me to Ripon for a political rally. The crowd was rough and Tom tried to get me out of there but I was too stubborn to listen to him. Matthew had to rescue us both by using his fists. I was knocked out and bleeding and he took us to his mother at Crawley House so I wouldn't frighten my parents and called Mary. When Mary got there, she was worried and appalled, and Matthew made her be nice to me. He helped me up from the couch I was lying on, he took my hand and looked at me… It was like he saw me as a woman for the first time, and he liked what he saw. And I realized that I could have him if I wanted him. That I had the power to turn his head away from my sister if I wanted." Sybil sniffed. "Mary saw it too. I had never seen her look so panicked or angry with me before. I think she realized in that moment that she did love Cousin Matthew and if she kept playing with him instead of sealing the deal, he was going to start looking elsewhere."

"Why didn't you? Turn his head, I mean." It was more than a spark, but Rose was curious as well.

Sybil considered it carefully. "How one wields power is very important, I think. I was in love with Tom. Mary and Matthew were dancing around their feelings but they were in love, they just didn't realize it. And Mary was my sister and as much as I sometimes think she needed to learn a lesson about toying with people, I didn't want to be the one to teach that lesson to her. Mary used to do that all the time to Edith. As soon as even someone she didn't like showed Edith attention, she'd swoop in and turn their heads, just to make Edith miserable. I loved Mary, but she had some nasty ways. I never wanted to be like Mary. It was enough to put the fear into her, that I could turn his head if I wanted." She smiled. "She managed to get him to propose to her that very night. That's what I mean by your power as a woman. In one instant, I made my sister realize not only was I her equal, but if we fought over a man, she'd most likely lose. I just… didn't see the point. I was already in love with a different man. But…" and her voice grew softer, "I admit, in that moment, I found Cousin Matthew my rescuer to be eminently worthy of interest. I thought Mary was going to rip my eyes out but yes, I was tempted."

"Lucky for her that you were so much in love with Tom Branson," Rose said, her thoughts whirling. Who knew that Sybil had such thoughts, and yet when she considered it, it made perfect sense. She had only heard the stories of Mary and Matthew's endless courtship but what Sybil described made perfect sense. Mary had been the jealous sort, and Sybil in contrast was a kind soul. It would have made things very different if Sybil had acted on her feelings in that moment, but her kindness of spirit and her love for a different man had stayed her hand.

But more importantly, it meant there was a spark between Matthew and Sybil, something that neither of them had kindled and tended because they had been in love with other people. It gave Rose hope that it was possible for something good to come out of the terrible tragedies of the last year. But, she considered carefully, it couldn't be forced. I can help, she decided, but it has to start with them.

At the same time, she thought with a smile, I can certainly help them find reasons to see each other.


	3. Chapter 3

"Must you fight me on every change, Robert?" Matthew asked tiredly. He tapped the paperwork plan he had drawn up. "You told me once that you wanted to see Downton become strong, that the idea of failing to keep it within the family haunted you. Tom and I proposed the new tenancies, and they are profitable. I proposed the pig farming, and for the first time in a generation, that tenancy is actually making a profit. We have orchards we do nothing with. Yes, we have preserves and jams, cider and applesauce to suit our taste all year long, and the rest of the fruit rots. It's wasteful at the very least. If we tended the orchards more carefully and made a real effort to harvest, at the very least we could be selling the fruit we're not using at market. What we should do is start manufacturing our own products. People would pay for decent jam or apple butter." He gave Sybil a nod.

She took the mental baton from him, just as he had hoped. "Papa, Matthew is right. When Tom and I lived in Dublin, I'd scour the market for the best preserves, and note who made the best products. And people like knowing where their fruit or their preserves come from. There was a lovely farm just outside the city that always had the best raspberry jam. Tom liked it so I'd make sure I'd get to the market on the days they came. Everyone wanted O'Reilly jams, and they'd pay more for it too. If we bottled up our own jams and preserves, you can bet a lot of people would want to try Downton Abbey's Signature Apricot Jam."

"Exactly," Matthew said, gratefully taking the baton back. "Robert, you're a man used to the rarefied atmosphere of privilege. You may not realize this but the more common folk like to enjoy the same things as the rich. They like the pretension that they may not be wealthy but they can put the same jam on their toast as the King and Queen, or have the same cheese with their dinner." He could easily remember how certain sorts of cheese or beer or jam had a sort of social standing at classmate gatherings at university.

Sybil nodded brightly. "We have plenty of tenants with dairy cows. If we made our own cheeses, we could call it Downton Cheddar."

"And all of this, Robert," Matthew said, his tone equally bright, "would take very little to start up since we already have the basics available. The estate has orchards, and berry bushes. The tenants already do dairy farming. We would need a building for making the jams and bottling them, and frankly we have suitable properties already owned. We would need cooks and the village has plenty of women who would appreciate seasonal work. We would need to find a good maker of cheese. The important thing is that the estate would be supporting itself on the goods it produces and we'd be providing the villagers jobs and giving them a reason to stay on the land." Less forcefully, he added, "We've been lucky here, Robert. With the pigs and new tenancies, we're profitable. For now. What I am proposing would take very little investment capital since we have so much on hand that's being wasted, and it's a natural progression. We have the land to provide for the tenants. We're just making a more refined end product."

Robert snorted. "You are proposing we turn Downton into a jam factory, that we become tradesmen." He held up his hand to stave off Matthew's protest. "That said, I don't like waste, and you're absolutely right that even if we let the villagers pick what they like, we end up with fruit rotting on the ground every year. And I do pay attention to the news. The sad truth is, we can't compete with the Americans filling the markets with cheap grain and beef. We've been lucky here." He gestured to the paperwork Matthew had drawn up. "Sybil, you're obviously for it. Why?"

"Because," she said easily, "I'm not the destroyer of tradition that you think I am, Papa. At the same time, I read the newspapers you and Matthew read, and people who aren't adapting are losing their homes. This is Kate's home and George's home and we need to make sure they have can keep this as their home even when times change. Matthew isn't proposing we sell land or set up some sort of industrial factory. He wants to use build on what we already have. I think it's lovely." She smiled at Matthew. "I'm looking forward to having Downton Cheddar being on the table of all the finest restaurants."

Robert sighed. "Overall, I don't like it because it is trade, but you're right about this, Matthew. I fear we're going to see more and more of our kind lose their homes over an unwillingness to change." He gave Matthew a nod. "You were right about the pigs and the new tenancies. I think we should approach this cautiously, but we should do it." He stood up. "I'm glad, actually. I like the idea of using something that we already have to build a new facet of the estate. Now, I must check on your mother and see if she has settled down from reading Edith's letter." With that he strode out of the room.

Matthew let out the breath he'd been holding. "It worked," he said finally. "You were right." He smiled at her. "I've never had your father agree to one of my ideas so easily." He had asked Sybil for help out of desperation. He knew he could inevitably grind Robert down on the point but to get the plan moving this year instead of next, the orchards needed to be tended in the spring. He had three of the dairy farming tenants interested but they wanted assurances that if they expanded their stock to produce the milk needed for cheese production, that the Earl would give some assistance.

Sybil shrugged. "You need to remember, Matthew, that Papa is a very proud man who will embrace change when he thinks it's his idea. That and he really does care about the people who live here. Just the other day he was bemoaning the fact that a lot of the local young men are heading to the cities for work because there's no work here. He knows you're right but it touches his pride because he's been told his entire life that businessmen aren't gentleman." She hesitated. "And all the difficulty over the investments…." She gave him a knowing look. "I think you're wise to not want that for George."

He waited a moment to ask the question he'd been wondering about. "Have you given any more thought to returning to Ireland? I know you received a letter today as well. And before you answer, this was your home long before it was my home and one promise I made to myself after meeting all of you was that I wasn't turning anyone out of a home I only inherited due to bad luck, Downton is your home and Edith's home, and little Kate's as well." He knew from previous talks that Tom's mother had invited her to come back to Dublin to live.

She smiled slightly. "Mother Branson says Kate and I are welcome to live with her but... I've decided to stay here. She asked for Tom's sake, but..."

"Dublin wasn't as lovely as you made it sound?" Matthew had wondered about that.

"Dublin was a dream, Matthew." Sybil said it easily, a smile coming to her face. "I loved living in Dublin with Tom... But I wasn't blind to the fact that we weren't as welcome at some places due to me. Tom eased the way but if I went back, I'd be the English widow of an Irish man driven out of his country. His mother and I got along well, truly, but my living with her would be a burden, and I don't know that Kate would thank me for raising her there. And Papa dotes on her, and Mama, and in Dublin she'd be the daughter of an Englishwoman and I don't know that it's fair to make her deal with that when we're welcome here. I'm afraid you're stuck with us."

"It's hardly a burden," he said quickly. "But I worry... Forgive me, Sybil, but in many ways you have always reminded me of my mother, in that you need something to do. Does Kate keep you busy enough or would you like something else to do?" He hoped he was right about her. He thought he was. Sybil was a devoted mother but Robert and Cora insisted on a nanny. The hospital was well staffed and without a war to overload the patient load, Clarkson was unlikely to have a lord's daughter working the wards. That didn't leave Sybil much else.

"I think it would depend on what you want to suggest," she said carefully.

"I refuse to give up practicing law. I enjoy practicing law and frankly I like having the knowledge in the back of my mind that I have something not attached solely to the estate." Sometimes he wondered if that was a selfish conceit and then he would remind himself that Robert still controlled all the financial decisions in the end and that meant he had to maintain his law career. The money he made would wasn't insubstantial and it meant if something went terribly wrong with the estate, there would still be something to live on. He wasn't currently worried but one reason he wanted to increase the estate's income was to bring some security to the place. "I can do quite a lot on the weekend to manage the estate and Jarvis can handle the more traditional tasks but I thought you might want to manage the day to day aspect of the new cheese and jam idea."

He could see her interest plain on her face. "Oh that would be grand, Matthew. Mama has invited me to join a few of her charities but frankly while they're all good causes, it's me being Mama's widowed daughter who married badly. I spent quite a bit of time researching cheese production… However I do see a flaw in your plan."

"What's that?" he asked.

"Do the tenants involved know you plan to have a woman acting for you during your absences?" Sybil gave him a knowing look. "I've always applauded your open mindedness about women, Matthew, but your tenants might not share that view."

"No need to worry," he said, glad he had anticipated the problem. "I have six tenant farms in mind, four for the dairy production, and two that are adjacent to the orchards, and I already broached the topic with them." He chuckled. "The wives involved were quite for it. They are probably already discussing the idea in the village."

"Then it's settled," Sybil said with a laugh. "And we'll see whether it's Granny or Papa who yells at first." She seemed to consider her next words carefully. "Are you ready for the season?"

Matthew sighed. "Not at all. I know I am being silly, that Mary wouldn't expect me to mourn forever, but I feel like I betrayed her this morning by not wearing black." It had been more than difficult, made worse that Mosesly was almost desperately kind in not saying anything. "For Rose's sake, I felt it was necessary. I feel terrible that she's spent so much time trying to cheer me up…" A thought dawned on him, a terrible thought. "Oh goodness, Sybil…. Rose isn't… "

"Having a crush on you? Flirting with you?" She laughed. "I don't think so. I think you're her protective big brother who gives her advice and covers for her when Papa might get angry. I was worried though, but when I broached the topic, you'll be pleased to know she was both horrified and amused that I suggested such a thing. You'll be pleased to know you're far too old to be an acceptable husband to Rose"

He smiled ruefully. "I suppose I should be relieved but now I think I am a little offended at being spurned so bluntly. I've never felt so old before."

"Well, I'm sure you won't be disappointed in London," Sybil said easily.

"That is what I really dread," he admitted. "I'm not… officially mourning, but I've no interest in finding a bride. I can't not go, that is disrespectful to Rose and the family, but I also feel it's unfair to present myself to young women who are very much husband hunting when I am not looking for a wife." He chuckled suddenly. "I don't know why I worry. This may shock you, Sybil, but the truth is that I was always quite useless at attracting the opposite sex. Quite frankly, I think most of these young ladies will find me a bitter disappointment. I'm apparently a decrepit old man, and I am terrible at making conversation, especially with women."

"Well, you managed to attract Mary," Sybil said brightly. "And she was a woman of discerning taste as I recall. And you managed to attract Lavinia without the assistance of any special parties."

"Lavinia and I met because I bowled her over at King Crossing and invited her to lunch to apologize for being a clumsy oaf of a soldier. And Mary liked to argue." And for the first time in a long time it didn't hurt to say her name.

"Well, you could just behave awfully," Sybil offered. "Here's a trick. Just keep repeating to yourself 'what would Larry Grey do?' whenever you feel like driving a woman away. Do you know he had the audacity to send me a request to let him escort me to certain functions this season?"

"I suppose the bright side is that he's still interested?" Matthew offered.

"He's a toad, a disgusting piece of trash, and he's only sniffing around me because he's been turned down by everyone and he thinks I must be desperate enough to remarry anyone." She frowned. "He's planning to attend most of the functions we're going to."

And Matthew was suddenly glad he could repay all the favors she had been granting him since Mary's death, and avoid the worst of the onslaught as well. "Don't worry," he offered, "I have to go to all of these events as well. I'll be your escort. That way you can beg off someone as warty as Larry, and I don't have to dance with every 18 year old girl that realizes I'm one of the youngest men available that has a title and money."

"We shouldn't…" Sybil said after a moment. "I'm certain my mother and yours want us both to at least consider the idea of meeting someone new."

"I know," Matthew nodded, warming to the idea. "And I am certain that my mother has been having tea with Lord Merton of all people so that I can't point to her example when she insists I dance with some girl. But it seems to me that you and I both did a fine job in choosing our own partners and I think we can both manage again. If we want to. Frankly, if history is any indicator, I'll meet my next wife after saying something incredibly rude in her presence or accidently forcing her to drop her luggage and you'll marry the gardener. Or Barrow."

She laughed, like he knew she would. "Oh I think that would send both Papa and Barrow to their graves, Matthew. But I agree we should rescue each other this season if we need it." She held out her hand to shake, which surprised him. Her eyes twinkled. "If we're partners in several deals, we should shake on it, shouldn't we?"

He took her hand and shook it carefully, finding it suddenly amusing and pleasing to have her as his ally. "I know tomorrow is Sunday, but after church we should go to the tenants involved and give them the good news."

"Yes, and we should take Rose and the children," Sybil said easily. At his surprised look, she added, "I almost forgot. She wanted to take the children on a picnic after church and she asked me to invite you and George since she is but a girl and it would be inappropriate for her as an unpresented girl to invite a single man to a picnic." She laughed. "I think Granny and Mama couldn't quite believe their ears when she asked me to do this."

"I admit, I find myself wondering what happened to the young girl I had to drag away from a married man in a jazz bar, but her sudden concern about appearances is a nice change that I will support by endorsing this picnic idea." George and Katie certainly deserved a bit of fun and now that he was certain Rose didn't consider him husband material, he was more comfortable with the idea. Even better that she picked Sybil to chaperone the picnic. It was nice to see the girl turn into the responsible young lady he'd known was there under all the anger and rebellion.


	4. Chapter 4

Rose realized as she watched the dancing that her season really was a magical time. She had been presented to the Royal family, she had been introduced to several young men who were charming. Best of all, her secret plan seemed to be working. As she watched, Matthew took Sybil's hand and led her to the dance floor. Matthew looked smashing of course, in his formal uniform and Sybil was as pretty as a picture as well. Oh please be true, Rose thought happily, please let this work.

Madelaine Allsop came up beside her. "So she's the one who has stolen the widowed heir's heart," She gave Rose a knowing look and a slight smile. "You might have warned me, Rose."

"I wasn't sure," Rose admitted. "I'm still not sure. They might just be friends but… wouldn't it be so lovely if it was more?"

Madelaine grinned broadly. "Oh you're such a romantic but I dare say, so am I. Do you really think they could be falling in love?"

"Yes… and no…" Rose found herself suddenly tongue tied. "It's just, if it was anyone other than these two, I'd be certain but it is Matthew and Sybil and there's so much…"

"There's so much hideous backstory," Madelaine helped. "And they live in the same house and have suffered the same tragedies. It's like a novel by Bronte. But look at them…They look lovely together, like they're actually enjoying themselves."

"I know," Rose said, feeling happy for both of them. "Even if it isn't what I am hoping, I think it does them both good to get out of York and at least enjoy themselves." She watched with pleasure as Matthew twirled Sybil on the dance floor, not realizing that Isobel Crawley and Lady Cora had come up beside her.

"Who is Matthew dancing with?" Isobel asked, a smile coming to her face. Cousin Isobel, Rose recalled, had pleasantly surprised that Matthew had agreed to attend so many functions without an argument from him. It was fair, Rose thought. Matthew had been so depressed, and then he had thrown himself back into his law work and the new businesses with the estate, Isobel had made the point to Lady Cora more than once that she worried Matthew was working himself into a frenzy in order to avoid living. Cora worried as well, and while Robert was more pleased to see Matthew getting up and out of the house daily. Isobel's cheerful smile tightened just a little when she realized it was Sybil that Matthew was dancing with. "He's with Sybil. Again."

"I'll have a word with her, Isobel," Cora said easily.

"Don't be harsh," Isobel gave her a nod. "I'm sure she thinks she is helping him." Isobel then made her way over to the small table where the Dowager Countess was holding informal court at the ball.

That allowed Rose to ask the question swirling in her mind. "If I didn't know better," she said carefully to Cora, "I would think that Cousin Isobel is annoyed that Sybil and Matthew are enjoying themselves."

Cora nodded as she watched the dancing, clearly considering her words. "It's awkward, Rose. Cousin Isobel was hoping that Matthew was…. Moving past his grief by agreeing to attend the Season. She's not anxious for him to remarry but she was hoping that he would at least be open to meeting some other women. And instead, he's dancing with Sybil." Cora sighed. "I'm not pleased with Sybil either. She's always been contrary about men, but I admit, Tom suited her. I know she's been worried about Matthew but she's not helping him by letting him…. Hide himself away from all of the possibilities. And she's too young to be ignoring all of her own options."

"Maybe," Madelaine said, giving Rose a conspiratorial wink, "they aren't ignoring their options at all. Rose tells me they're as thick as thieves at home."

Cora's eyes widened in surprise, and Rose couldn't help but smile. "You see it, don't you?" Rose asked, laughing. "I know you do!" Madelaine laughed as well, and after a moment so did Cora.

"I didn't see it," Cora admitted as her eyes followed the pair, "and Cousin Isobel might still have the right of it, that they're turning to each other to avoid finding new partners but… Oh, as much as it was never right when they first met, they do suit each other." Cora turned to Rose, her expression intent. "Rose, you mustn't talk about this. If it is what we hope, then we must let it happen on its own. If we force it, we'll ruin it."

"I understand, and I promise I won't discuss it," Rose said easily. Inside she was jumping with glee. It has to work, she told herself, it has to.

0o0o0o0

Violet waited until she was alone with Isobel to press her friend about what had her so flustered.  
"Why have you been glaring at your son all evening? He seems to be having a lovely time." It was surprising, Violet had to admit. Matthew had been so bereft, she knew Isobel had been deeply concerned. Little George kept Matthew from just fading away, from taking the romantic but ultimately tragic path of following one's love to the grave. His grief had been so overwhelming, Violet knew Isobel had been desperate to help him, not wanting to treat him like a child but becoming increasingly worried as he shambled through his days, grief stricken and morose. Then over the last few months, Matthew had… passed through the worst of the storm. He began to take an interest in his work, and in the estate. Violet knew Robert had agreed to Matthew's ideas mostly because he'd been simply pleased Matthew wanted to do something other than ponder the depths of his sadness. Violet was surprised that he had agreed to come to London, and that he was smiling and dancing with various young ladies was almost too much to expect.

Isobel gave her a sour look. "Who is he dancing with?"

Violet looked. Matthew was twirling Sybil about. "I believe he's dancing with my granddaughter, who seems to also be having a lovely time." Another good thing. As much as she hadn't approved of Sybil marrying the chauffeur, it had been a love match that couldn't be denied and it grieved her to see Sybil alone after knowing such happiness.

"They have been joined at the hip all evening," Isobel said, her voice rolling with irritation. She sighed. "I didn't expect him to find another wife here. I'm realistic, Violet. He's barely past the worst of his grief. But I did hope that he would at least… try to see that there were possibilities out there. And instead, he's dancing with Sybil."

"Yes how awful," Violet said, rolling her eyes. "What a nightmare he's in…"

"Oh, you know that's not what I mean," Isobel snapped. "Sybil is a wonderful woman and frankly, I'd think you would be annoyed as well. She's not likely to find anyone if she spends all of her time with Matthew. It's not healthy for either of them. They spend all their time together at home. I know they've been supporting each other in their grief but it worries me that they're retreating, using the excuse of each other as a crutch to avoid meeting new people."

Violet watched the couple dance. A thought occurred to her, a pleasant thought. "Isobel, I do understand your concern. But… let's be honest between ourselves. Sybil could have married anyone after her season, she just didn't want any of the men who took an interest. She was already in love with her chauffeur. The men attending these soirees? Are the same men she turned down before, only now there's fewer to pick from. She's not meeting anyone new. And you said yourself, you didn't expect Matthew to find a wife here." Violet waited a long moment. "Have you met anyone you'd care to have as a daughter in law?"

After a moment, Isobel chuckled. "I must admit, no," she agreed. "I've met some charming young ladies here but none that I think would suit Matthew at all. It's unfortunate really. He's too old to find these young girls enticing simply because they're young girls, and too young to appreciate that it will only get harder the older he gets." Isobel sighed again. "And he's too young to be alone, Violet. It's been over a year since Mary passed. He's too young to spend all of his time working, and I worry I've set the wrong example when we're very different people in different situations." She looked down at her hands. "Matthew chides me that I didn't remarry after Reginald passed but… Reginald and I were married for thirty years. And we were a couple alone for nineteen of those years. Matthew was married for a year and a few months. And marriage suits him, and if Mary had lived, I have no doubt that they would have had a long, lovely marriage, but she didn't. And while I won't pretend to know Mary's mind better than you, I think you agree that she would have wanted him to be happy."

That was wishful thinking indeed, Violet thought, but she didn't correct Isobel. Mary would have grieved as hard, if the roles had been reversed, and it would have been as worrisome as Matthew's grief had been, but she knew Mary too well to agree with Isobel on what Mary would have wanted. Mary would have been rather enchanted with the idea that Matthew couldn't be happy without her. At least at first. She would have thought better of it eventually but that was how Mary always was, and for a moment Violet felt her own grief fresh.

She pushed it away. "Of course she would want him to be happy. And he seems to be, Isobel. He's smiling quite brightly at Sybil and she's smiling back and that's good to see." She waited a long moment. "They make an attractive couple, Matthew and Sybil. I'm sure we had a reason, back in the day, to never consider the two of them together…"

"She was a child," Isobel said quickly. "If she had been just a little older… It might have been different." Isobel smiled slightly. "I remember thinking it was too bad that she was so young, and that they were both so besotted with other people, but they were…. And now they're both widowed, with children. You just never know how things will go."

She either wasn't taking the bait, Violet decided, or trying to ignore the obvious solution just to spite me. "Things have changed for both of them. They enjoy each other's company, they share fond memories of each other's partners… is there a reason we're avoiding the obvious?"

Isobel's eyes widened in surprise. "I never… but… I think they're just friends, Violet."

Violet watched the couple move across the dance floor. "Would it be so awful if they were more than friends, Isobel?" The idea warmed in her mind. People would talk, but they always talked. Sybil had never wanted a man that was more interested in her title and inheritance than her, and unlike a number of the young girls looking for husbands, she wasn't going to be put off by the idea that Matthew worked. Not after marrying the chauffeur. And Matthew… Matthew didn't need to marry well, he didn't need to marry at all, and Isobel was right, it was unlikely that he would find a wife during the London season. The girls were lovely but they were girls. Mary had her girlish moments, but she and Matthew had been intellectual equals, and she had taken a keen interest in the estate, sometimes even disagreeing with Matthew.

Sybil would disagree with Matthew, Violet realized, a slight smile coming to her face, Sybil had openly argued with Matthew before they left, over how the women making their jam deserved higher pay than the workers picking the fruit. As much as Violet didn't care for the cheese and jam business that Matthew had begun, she had kept an eye on how it was doing and what Sybil's role in managing it really was and not only was it successful, Matthew was trusting Sybil with significant decisions.

She began to like the idea. It was a pairing born of tragedy, Matthew and Sybil had both been happily married and very much in love with their partners. Without the tragedy of Tom's car accident and Mary's death in childbirth, Violet knew that both would have remained happily married. But there had been dual tragedies, tragedies that Matthew and Sybil had comforted each other over. That alone wasn't going to build a new relationship but she remembered all too well thinking it was a pity that Sybil was too young to be in contention for Matthew. If there's no romantic love there, she thought carefully, then there wasn't, but watching them dance, she wondered. "Perhaps, Isobel, we shouldn't discourage them."

Isobel pursed her lips angrily. She managed a smile as both Matthew and Sybil gave them a wave, and then sighed. "I don't… want to discourage anything that would bring either of them some happiness. I do mean that, Violet. And… there was one time that I saw something… spark between them. And Mary saw it as easily as I did and turned his head back to her as quickly as she could. But I don't want either of them hurt more. Matthew and Tom were friends, and Sybil and Mary were sisters. It might be too much to get past, and then what do we do?"

"We let them set the pace, and we make sure to encourage but not to press them." Violet nodded. "It does not escape me that they both have the Crawley stubbornness in spades. If they think we want them together then they will see to it that they end up at each other's throats."

0o0o0o0

"Is Mother still glaring at me?" Matthew asked as they danced. "I have half a mind to grab the silliest girl at this ball, and introduce her to Mother as my new fiancé just to get her to stop. I swear I have danced with every young woman here at least once." He knew he was exaggerating but only a little. "Do you need to rest? I feel like I've had you on your feet all evening." He actually was beginning to feel guilty about their bargain. As soon as he let go of one young lady, it seemed like there were two more waiting to have the opportunity to sink their claws into him.

"I'm good, and you can't see it but Larry and Tim Grey are both lying in wait," Sybil rolled her eyes. "That you're the belle of the ball while they are frantically trying to attract a woman, any woman, should tell you how awful they are."

"I know Larry is odious," Matthew said easily, "but what's so terribly wrong with Tim?" He had to admit, on looks alone, he didn't understand why the young ladies were avoiding one of the younger, better looking highborn males.

"He's actually quite sweet when he's not around Larry, but you're not considering him with a woman's eye, as a marriage prospect," Sybil said easily. She seemed to realize that he wasn't understanding. "I begin to suspect you have utterly no idea why all these girls find you so worthy of attention."

"It does surprise me," Matthew agreed. "Particularly since I am apparently so old fashioned about music and parties." It hadn't escaped him how disappointed any number of young ladies were to hear that he wasn't much for the new jazz scene.

"Yes, and I think you've driven a few of them off by mentioning how you like nothing better than reading a book by the fire at night." Sybil laughed. "But you're sought after for several reasons. You're old but you're not sixty, the smarter girls have realized that your being clever isn't the horror show their mothers tell them it is, you're quite dashing to look at and you have a romantic, tragic story. Trust me Matthew, I know you've never been a young girl, but being the girl who heals the sad, handsome, widower's broken heart would be quite the coup. But most importantly, you don't have any brothers to share your fortune with. Larry Grey is an odious toad, we agree, but a huge part of why you're waving off ladies while he's desperately scrambling is because we all know just how much he'll inherit, and that he'll be taking care of his brother as well. And Tim… have you ever had a conversation with Tim Grey, Matthew?"

He considered it for a second. "I can't say I have. It's always Larry or Lord Merton who do the talking." He waited for her to fill him in.

"He's almost dimwitted," Sybil confided. "Someone, his mother I suspect, taught him to not say a word unless his brother or her or his father are there. So he gives the appearance of being Larry's assistant with their estate but really, Larry will need to support him." She sniffed. "As much as I don't like Larry, I will give him credit in one respect, and that is that he's very devoted to Tim. But trust me, one dance with Tim tells you all you need to know. Sweet but dim, and he's not the heir so he'll linger on the vine."

"It occurs to me that you probably know all of the people here." It surprised him for some reason, although as he thought about it, it really wasn't a reach. "I just… Mary always knew who everyone was, so I always had a source of information, but I just… assumed you never took an interest."

"Oh Matthew, you don't grow up the way I did without being forced to take an interest in things you don't like. Do you really think my mother or grandmother, or my two sisters for that matter would allow that? Trust me, Mary used to quiz me on these things." Sybil laughed as she spoke. "That reminds me, Mabel Lane Fox was asking me about you."

"Should I care?" He wasn't even sure he could put a face to the name.

She gave him a sharp look. "I'm beginning to see why your mother finds you to be a trial, Matthew. She was the one with the dark hair, that my mother introduced you to yesterday at lunch."

That helped. "She seemed nice, if a bit overly catty. Frankly I thought I put her off by asking her opinions on the news from Germany." A bit older than the young ladies being presented, and quite pretty. Like Mary, only unmarried. Too pretty to give up and marry lower, but cursed by the fact that she had come of age just before the war had gutted England of its crop of young eligible men.

Sybil frowned. "You didn't like her? That's too bad. Mama actually thought you might like her." She smiled up at him. "I suspect though… she reminded you of Mary, didn't she?"

He nodded, surprised that Sybil so easily diagnosed his discomfort. "I don't know how to describe this except that… I loved Mary despite how she could be, because from the moment I met her, I knew that she had a very warm heart that she only rarely let people see. That meant… accepting things that I wouldn't have intentionally sought out in a wife. Miss Lane has all of Mary's flaws and none of her better traits." He struggled to put it into words. "I didn't fall in love with Mary merely because she was pretty or because she looked good on my arm and enjoyed witty word play at parties. There wasn't… a set of things that I was looking for. And… I'm not sure I want a woman who reminds me of Mary. If Mary was alive, there could be no one else, but she is gone. Mother thinks I am refusing to move on and that's not true. I just… know that what I had with Mary was very special and if I think it's possible that I could have something that special again, I know it will be different, and I want to allow for the difference. I don't want another wife to be like Mary because that will always make me compare and that's unfair. And it wasn't the superficial things about Mary that I fell in love with." He sighed. "I'm explaining this badly."

Sybil shook her head. "No, you're explaining it perfectly." She laughed again as he spun her around. "At the dinner party at the Cliftons, the one you didn't attend, Mama and our host took great care to seat me next to a perfectly nice fellow. His name was Henry Talbot, and he was born high enough to please Granny, but apparently common enough for the Crawley daughter who married badly to like and… Oh Matthew, all he did was talk about his racing car and how he loves cars and racing. And I know exactly why Mama thought I would like him, because Tom liked cars… and that's not what I fell in love with."

"What did you fall in love with?" Matthew asked. He had always liked Tom and respected him, but he had wondered what the spark between them had been.

Sybil smiled shyly. "He was a bold, brave man who made no apology for being who he was. His life wasn't easy, everything that came easily to people like us, like schooling and money, he had to fight for those things. For all that everyone looked down on him here, he was a hero to his family, getting a good job, sending money home. And when they were angry that he wanted to marry me, he defended his decision and told them that he loved them and cherished them but they could accept his bride or not. Tom fought for me, more than I think my family realizes. I'm like you, Matthew. It wasn't about the surface things. And my next husband doesn't have to be Irish or a laborer… He just has to be worthy of Tom's memory. You're right, you know. New love will be different. We mustn't expect the same, we must be brave as well. We're very lucky in a way, we have our children, and we have each other." She hesitated. "I was dreading this, for all I put a good face on it to Rose. You make this easier, Matthew."

"As if you don't make this easier for me," he said with a laugh. "I wish my mother would arrange for me to be introduced to someone like you." He regretted it as soon as he said it, especially since it brought a blush to her cheeks. Yet a part of him didn't regret it. It was the truth, made worse that Sybil was one of the few women he couldn't consider, however much he might want to.

She let go of his hands as the dance music ended. "I… need to freshen up, excuse me…" and then she ran off to the exit. I'm such a lout, he thought worriedly, it's a wonder Mary ever wanted to be with me, and now I've upset Sybil who has done nothing but be kind to me. Matthew sighed and tried to put a brave face on as several hopeful young girls perked up at the reality that he had no partner. He'd need to put in a few more dances before he could beg off the rest of the evening. It was worse that his mind was rolling with what he had said. Worse, he wasn't sure he'd been honest at all.

He didn't want to be introduced to a woman like Sybil. Not when he already knew Sybil.


	5. Chapter 5

John Bates wasn't worried. Not exactly. He knew more than anyone how Anna had grieved for Lady Mary. It had been a terrible shock for the whole household, so soon after poor Branson's accident. Tom's death had been a shock although Bates had wondered more than once if the heart condition that kept the man from being conscripted had finally reared its head when the crash had occurred. Even Dr. Clarkson had wondered, but in the end it didn't really matter if Tom's crash was caused by the man having a heart attack or if he'd really lost control of the car. Tom was dead and as much as it saddened Lady Sybil, it was how Robert had reacted that had surprised him. It was a shame that it had taken the older man so long to see that the grubby socialist chauffeur had been a fine fellow after all, worthy of his daughter. But while Tom's death had been tragic, the household had bounced back. Everyone circled around poor Sybil and it was as if the family and the servants were united in trying to ease her pain.

It hadn't been so simple when Lady Mary died so abruptly after giving birth to little George. Oh the household was drowned in grief, Anna among the most devastated, but it had been different. Mr. Crawley had been stricken by grief, retreating into a silent melancholy, made worse that Lord Grantham and his wife had been at each other, Cora blaming Robert for not insisting Mary go to the hospital. Bates rather doubted any of that had registered on Matthew. Violet had been stunned by grief, and it had been all Isobel, Rose and Sybil could do to get the family to go through the motions. Worse by far was how poorly Carson handled the sorry business. For months he'd glared and snapped at anyone who so much as mentioned Lady Mary, and practically glowered at Matthew. Everyone danced around it, wanting to show sympathy, but also not wanting to anger the old butler. Fortunately, Robert had finally taken the man aside and spoken to him. By then though, everyone was wary of broaching the subject and those that still grieved, like his poor Anna, were left alone. She had struggled, more than the other servants knew, and it had been difficult for her. Lady Sybil had suggested the new arrangement, that while she didn't need a ladies maid the way Lady Mary had relied on Anna, between herself and Rose, Anna was kept busy and didn't lose her place as a ladies maid. It was kind, the way Lady Sybil was kind, but John did worry, especially early on.

And he worried as they sat at the servants' dinner table listening to the gossip. Carson was out, a day off, which made everyone's tongues loosen.

"What do you think, Mosesly?" Barrow asked, his eyes sharp as always. "Did they have a falling out in London? Ever since the family's been back, they've been cool to each other. Not angry… but hesitant." The dark haired footman shrugged as if it he didn't care, but Bates wondered. Thomas wasn't a ladies man, but if Carson favored Lady Mary, then Thomas favored Sybil, made easier that they had worked together in the war. Finally the younger man set down his fork and said what they were all thinking. "I though they liked each other, that they might… find each other. What happened?"

Mosesly shook his head. "I'm not sure." He hesitated as all the servants gave him their attention. "Mr. Crawley is _private_. He's not a talker. I think… I know he enjoyed himself, and I know he and Lady Sybil had rather planned to rescue each other, as he put it, from unwanted attention but… I don't know. I think perhaps that they both suddenly realized that they were… playing with fire."

"Is it so awful?" Daisy asked as she set down a bowl of food. She looked puzzled, which was never a surprise. "I mean, they like each other, they're raising their little ones together…"

No one else seemed to want to answer so Bates decided to try. "It's frowned on in their circles, Daisy. People might see it as a convenience for the family and not… something real."

"But it would be real," Daisy countered, her tone innocent. "It isn't as though they have to remarry. There's no reason for it to be forced. No one would mind if Lady Sybil didn't remarry, or Mr. Crawley. It causes no problem either way. So why can't they be falling in love?"

Everyone looked around at each other. Bates supposed it was just shock that it was said so boldly, that it stunned them all. They had all been dancing around it, that Sybil and Matthew had somehow gone from grieving friends who supported each other, to true friends and business partners, to a couple that laughed and shared jokes as though they were married. We all had been hoping for it, Bates realized, and now we're worried that it could be happening. Or maybe not all of us, he realized as Anna's eyes widened in shock.

She covered it well, as she rose to her feet. "Daisy, if they were like us, no one would care. But Mr. Crawley will be the Earl, and he married the Earl's daughter. If he's… in love or not, people in their circle would talk badly of him if he married Lord Grantham's other daughter."

Daisy wrinkled her brow in deep thought. "But why? Why would anyone object? Especially if it's real love and it could be…"

Bates tried not to sigh in irritation. Daisy wasn't a dumb girl, not at all, but she bore the marks of a childhood spent as one of many children where the mother and father never explained anything and then was shuffled off to work in service with little to no idea how the world worked. Anna caught his look and seemed to bite back on what she was about to say.

"People would be unkind, Daisy," Anna said carefully and calmly, although Bates knew her well enough to know her temper was being tested, "because it would look too convenient, that Mr. Crawley was marrying Lady Sybil for an ulterior motive, and that he married Lady Mary under false pretense, probably to please Lord Grantham, and to ensure his place in the family." Anna's voice was edged with anger. "It would look like he was merely replacing Lady Mary, with Lady Sybil, and that Lady Sybil was realizing what a mistake she'd made in marrying someone common."

"But that's not true," Daisy protested.

"It doesn't matter if it's true or not," Anna snapped, "but it's what people would say. Now if we're done gossiping, I have things to do." She turned and walked out, not quite fleeing, but Bates knew by the set of her shoulders that she was upset. He started to rise but Elsie Hughes gestured for him to remain seated.

"Let me, Mr. Bates," the older woman said gently as she rose to her feet. She smiled knowingly. "I've had this talk with someone else recently, who isn't as good tempered as Anna."

For once, Bates was glad someone else was willing to take the task of talking to Anna from him.

0o0o0o0

Of course, Elsie thought as she walked up to the second story landing and spied the light in Lady Mary's room, of course she's in there. And of course she sees this as a betrayal of Lady Mary. She understood, she understood all too well, and she hoped to provide some guidance.

She stepped into the room, not shocked that Anna was sitting on the bed and not even making a show of dusting. Anna looked up at her, and sighed. She folded her hands on her lap. "I'm sorry if I was rude to Daisy earlier. And I'm sorry if… I wasn't as pleased by the talk at the table." She sniffed. "Truth be told, I was glad something had seemed to put Lady Sybil and Mr. Matthew off each other."

That confirmed her suspicions. Elsie took a seat next to her on the bed, suddenly glad Carson was out for the day. "Because Mr. Matthew should spend the rest of his life mourning Lady Mary?" She gestured around the room, a room that looked like Lady Mary had departed on a short vacation and would be home soon, and she knew it wasn't just the family that was having a hard time letting go. "Anna, it's been a little over a year. He's mourned her decently, and honestly, I know you won't deny that, not when you were so worried early on that he was… how did you put it? Fading away from heart sickness, that's right."

Anna shook her head. "I don't wish any more unhappiness on Mr. Matthew, Mrs. Hughes, I don't. But…"

"But you see him smiling at Lady Sybil, and it breaks your heart because Lady Mary was your friend and you know how deeply she loved him and it seems like a betrayal and a stab into her heart every time he so much as considers looking at another woman? And worse, that it's Lady Sybil, her own sister, who supposedly loved the bloody chauffeur but as soon as a better man is free, there she is?" Elsie smiled at Anna's suddenly surprised expression. "What? It's impossible for the head housekeeper to have feelings about the situation?"

After a moment, Anna smiled just a little. "I suppose not," the younger woman said, her tone careful. "I just didn't expect you to take Mr. Branson's side. I thought you liked Lady Sybil."

"I do like Lady Sybil, Anna. I like her a great deal." Elsie saw the way in. "I also liked Tom Branson a great deal. We were friends… He reminded me of my older brother, with his cleverness and his daring. I'm probably the only one who approved of his marrying Lady Sybil. When he died, I lost a friend. I still miss him. And it's made worse that we've all been so sad, over Lady Mary, that I feel we sometimes forget that Lady Sybil lost a husband she loved as deeply." She took Anna's hand and gripped it firmly. "I miss Tom. I miss knowing him and watching him become a fine man in his own right. I know you miss Lady Mary, Anna."

"I do," Anna admitted. She wiped her eyes. "Oh, she could be difficult, Mrs. Hughes, I'll never say different, but once she valued you in her heart, she would walk on hot coals for you. You don't know how she helped me, and comforted me during John's trial. By rights, you know she could have fired me and I can tell you it never once crossed her mind. And… she was so much in love with Mr. Matthew, and he with her…" Her voice started to shake and Elsie put her arm around her shoulder. "And then I see him with Lady Sybil and they're laughing over something the children are doing or some story in the news and I…"

"You want to shake him, and say 'have you forgotten how much she loved you?'" Elsie finished for her. "Just like I want to shake Lady Sybil and say 'have you forgotten how he loved you, how he gave up everything for you?'" She waited a moment. "But when we do that, Anna, we're not being fair." She waved her hand at the room. "I find all of them in here at times, but most often Mr. Matthew. And Barrow tells me he finds Lady Sybil sitting in the cars in the barn. That's when we're not finding them at the cemetery." She found herself feeling her own grief again. "They haven't forgotten, not at all, Anna. And we mustn't be angry with them if they find new love, whether it's with each other or some new person, because whatever love they find, it will be different and they will always have the memory of their first loves. It's bad enough that they will have that doubt themselves, we shouldn't add to it."

"I know I'm being silly," Anna admitted. She wiped her eyes again. "I just miss her, and it hurts. But if it does happen, I won't stand in their way." She hesitated. "But you know I won't be the only person to think unkind thoughts about it. I was wrong… I know, deep down, that Matthew would have to love whoever he married next, and so would Sybil, but if I had the thought even after seeing their grief, then so will other people."

"I know," Elsie said. "But it may not be a concern. They do seem to have cooled off."

Anna shook her head as she stood up. "No, they haven't. Not really. They're very much alike, you know. She's been doing things for the new business and avoiding Mr. Matthew, and he's been all about staying late in Ripon to avoid Lady Sybil because if they're not around each other, they don't have to acknowledge that they might… see something there that maybe wasn't there before. If that makes sense?" She shrugged. "That's the space between them, that they do feel the attraction, that there is something there. And they're both kind souls who feel like if they admit they love someone new, that they're somehow betraying the memory of their previous loves. I think they just need some time." She chuckled just a little. "They're driving Rose quite mad, actually. She has been encouraging them from the start, I think."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Elsie said as she also stood up. "I'm glad we talked, Anna."

"I'm glad too," Anna smiled at her. "John has been my rock this last year but lately the talk at the table and all… When you said you missed Tom, I think that was the first time it occurred to me that I wasn't alone in my grief, that we've all been mourning, and some of the…. Interest in Lady Sybil and Mr. Matthew is because people are as upset as I am but showing it differently. Thank you for helping me see it differently."

"You're welcome, Anna," Elsie said easily. She just hoped Anna was right, that the fire was kindled and the slow burn was about to turn into the fire of passion.


	6. Chapter 6

Going over the profits from the dairy and jam businesses, Sybil found herself smiling in pleasure at her father's expression. "What do you think, Papa?"

Her father looked up from the balance sheet she had prepared for him. Matthew smiled and winked at her, a surprise, since the season he'd been rather brusque with her and she the same but she didn't mind. It was good to give Papa a nice surprise with the holidays just two months away. Robert set down the paperwork and then looked at them both. "I admit it, I am beyond pleased. This… business the two of you are running is making money hand over fist."

"It is," Matthew said it pleasantly, and with no trace of amusement. Sybil found herself nodding at him, pleased he had remembered her warning. Her father was a proud man and any inroads the business made by being successful would be washed away if Matthew even hinted at finding it funny to be right. He held out the paperwork for the offers they had received so that Robert could look them over. "These are orders from some of the finer hotels in London for our cheese and our jams. We're not quite being served at Buckingham Palace, but our cheese is being requested at restaurants and clubs that cater to the political crowd. We can accept these contracts without expanding but my recommendation is that we should expand."

"Slowly," Sybil added. It was so exciting to talk about. "Matthew thinks, and I agree, that we should expand the dairy business to two more farms. I have tenants interested already." And that was a pleasure to talk about as well, tenant farmers pressing for the opportunity to join the lord's business. "We want to move slowly there because we don't want to expand too quickly and change the character of the estate."

"We also don't want to glut the market," Matthew added. "I don't pretend to be a business mogul, Robert, but I have been paying attention to how other businesses handle things like our modest success. The jams and cheeses are popular in part because we can only make so much. Expanding the dairy allows us to fill these private contracts and still stock specialty stores so people can still try our products. With the jams, right now we don't need to expand the orchards, it would just be an issue of putting more of the harvest towards the jam business and less to the fruit markets." He set down the next proposal and Sybil found herself tensing. Matthew pushed it to Robert, smiling this time. "The only expansion we're considering for the jam side of the business is this. This piece of property is for sale. It's currently owned by the Wellingtons. They're selling off tenancies that haven't been profitable and this tenancy is right next to one of ours. One thing we were considering is expanding our berry production and this tenancy has the right land for strawberries and blueberries."

Robert smiled with real pleasure. "We'd be expanding the estate? Not many can say that these days. Of course I approve as long as Wellington gives us an honest price for it." He looked at them both. "I must say, when you approached me with this idea, I didn't think it would work but I am glad to be proven wrong. Even with the reinvestments that you're doing, we're still coming out well ahead instead of merely scraping by. You two make a good team."

Matthew blushed. So did Sybil but she suspected she covered it better as Matthew stammered, ducked his head, and grabbed his papers, muttering his thanks and sputtering how he had a case to work on. Her father eyed him and then her.

"I know," he said easily, "that I didn't just say something remarkably odd or offensive so what was that about? And don't think it hasn't escaped me that you two have been at odds for some reason. Ever since we came back from London. That's why I was glad to see both of you today, working together again. So what's going on between you two?"

"Nothing!" she sputtered, her face reddening again.

"Really?" Her father raised his eyebrow at her, making her blush more. "Your reaction tells me that's not true."

And lying to Papa had always been difficult but she suspected she was about to make him intensely uncomfortable. "Matthew… said something to me while we were dancing in London that he regrets because he thinks he was too forward." Matthew hadn't said that, he'd hardly spoken to her at all, but she remember what he had been like when Mary and he had bickered when they were courting. Matthew wore his heart on his sleeve, even Tom had seen it, and instead of being kind, she had taken his heart and his innocent remark and thrown it to the dirt because she'd been a silly girl instead of a woman.

"Matthew? Being forward? What did he say?" Robert sat down next to her and took her hand. "Perhaps you misunderstood him?" He smiled at her. "If you knew how many times I've misunderstood your mother… although I thought it was Edith who I thought inherited that tendency from me. What did he say?"

"You'll think I'm being silly," Sybil began. Still, it was oddly comforting to have a talk with her father about it. "We were dancing and talking about all the people that Mother and Cousin Isobel kept forcing us to meet and he said… that he wished his mother would introduce him to someone like me. And I got flustered and presumed too much and ran off like a silly girl and it's been awkward since." She hesitated. " _I_ was the one who misunderstood, Papa. I thought he meant… I don't know what I thought…"

Robert patted her hand, his expression thoughtful. "Sybil… I'm really not a man who should advice in the ways of love. I married for money and by luck found the love of my life but by rights I should be a miserably unhappy man. And I can't pretend to understand the depth of your grief or Matthew's grief because it's a grief I've been lucky to never feel. So I can't speak from experience but… Why did you run off like a silly girl?"

"Because…" She took a deep breath. "Because I was thinking the same thing, Papa. Only I was thinking how I wished there weren't so many reasons against Matthew and I. And now I feel like I ruined even our friendship. I've hurt his feelings, and he obviously feels shamed and guilty that he said anything at all. He's not interested in me, not in that way." And if his shy, hesitant manner reminded her of when he had been pursuing Mary, that was just in her head.

Her father pondered her words. "What reasons do you have to be against it? It would create some talk but it isn't unheard of or forbidden." He gave her an amused look. "Are you worried that I wouldn't approve? Because I don't recall it bothering you all that much the last time. If fact I seem to recall one of my daughters telling me she'd be marrying her fellow whether I approved or not."

That got her to smile. "That wasn't the same, Papa. I know this will shock you, but I dreaded that moment and so did Tom." She sighed. "And it's not you and Mama I worry about upsetting, or Cousin Isobel. I know if this was real, if I wasn't imagining something that isn't there, that you'd approve. It's that… I'm older now and I realize that when Tom and I married, as delightful as it was, we caused you and Mama a great deal of grief as well. I don't want to do that again."

He gripped her hand reassuringly. "First, my dear Sybil, you have already proven to me that you know your mind and can make good decisions about your life. I regret being so obstinate about Tom, I mean that. I regret that I wasn't more supportive. Tom was a fine man and I wish he was here today. If you were to pursue Matthew or someone else, know that your mother and I will respect your choice because you've proven again and again that you have ample intelligence and good sense." He paused, clearly considering his thoughts. "As for whether it's real… I can't answer that, Sybil. What I can say is that I despaired about Matthew after Mary died. And then… the light came back into his eyes and I know that was because of you. And I think he knows that was because of you." He pulled her close. "I know you love him as a brother in law, as family. I know there's love there. Do you think you love him as someone that could be your husband?"

"I… don't know." She almost bit her tongue because it was a lie. More and more she had been indulging the fantasy, fighting it because it wasn't appropriate, because Mary's shade would rise up out of the grave and tear out her eyes for such a thought. "It's not that I'd be betraying Tom. We talked about it once," because she'd been a nurse and knew the risks of childbirth, and worried more that she'd be leaving him, "and we agreed that we didn't expect each other to live alone forever. It's that I'd be betraying Mary." She struggled not to cry.

Her father waited a long moment. "Mary was often cold, I don't deny that, Sybil, but Matthew warmed her heart. She would never have wanted him to be miserable and unhappy. And no matter how nasty she was to Edith and you as a child, she loved you both dearly. If you and Matthew had… caught fire before the war, and I won't deny that your mother and I often wondered if you weren't the better choice for Matthew, then Mary would have been hurt but she loved you both too much to deny that. If you don't believe me, then consider how she welcomed Lavinia and not once said an unkind thing about that poor dear girl. Don't believe your sister would have wished you ill, Sybil. Oh she would have been angry, I can't deny that but you know as well as I that when Mary loved, she loved deeply and she loved you both that deeply. Don't deny yourself happiness over how Mary might have reacted." He smiled slightly. "I like to think Heaven might have mellowed Mary a bit."

"I'm sure you're right, Papa." But internally she quailed. "Besides I might be wrong. I've made things awkward between us."

"Oh Sybil," her father sighed. "I think sometimes women forget that in many ways, men are very similar to women in their flaws. I think Matthew is the sort of man who was never terribly good at expressing himself to a woman. I won't lie to you, I was astonished that he asked Mary to marry him without making a mess of it. He's the sort that gets shy and awkward whenever he likes a woman. If you're going to pursue him, you need to remember that."

It amused and startled her at once. "Are you telling me to pursue Matthew, Papa?"

"I'm saying… that Matthew is likely feeling the same way you are feeling. That he is betraying two people he loved dearly." Robert smiled sadly. "He told me, the day he married Mary, that he was blessed in that he was finding the love of his life in Mary and that the brother he'd never known he wanted was going to be by his side to wed her. As much as I know Isobel loves him, I suspect sometimes that Matthew had a very lonely life in Manchester. Tom was his friend and your husband, and if the fear of betraying Mary worries you, it must worry him that he's risking offending Tom's spirit." He gave her a jollier smile. "That's about all the marital wisdom I have. Well, that and don't marry for money. I have utterly no regrets but I am perhaps the exception that proves the rule."

"Yes, Papa." It reassured her and worried her all the same. Matthew was a bit of a mess when it came to talking to women or expressing his feelings. Mary was partly to blame for their endless romance and often bitter misunderstandings, but Matthew carried some of the blame as well. He tended to shut down his feelings when he was upset, and avoid people he was upset with. That was partly why he had fallen so deeply into despair when Mary died, he withdrew because he was upset and sad and made no other fuss.

And I am part of the problem, she realized. Papa is right. Mary had a warm heart under her cold exterior and Sybil had never doubted even once that Mary loved her. And he was right that Mary would have been hurt, devastated even, if she and Matthew had done more that be friendly, but Mary would have choked it down and been happy for them. She remembered her words to Rose back in the early spring, that she had never looked hard at Matthew because he was in love with Mary, and she was in love with Tom so there had been no reason to torture Mary. She wasn't certain if Matthew was right, if she could really see herself being with him the way she had been with Tom, it was time for her to at least consider the possibility. And to make peace with it.

She excused herself and walked up the grand stairs. Then she slipped into Mary's old bedroom. It wasn't quite as shrine like as it had been. Matthew had taken her advice and donated a lot of Mary's clothes, leaving a few of her favorite dresses in the wardrobe. Her jewelry, her lovely hairbrushes and combs, had been carefully packed away. For George, Matthew had told her, so that he'll have something of hers, something he can show his own daughters when they ask about their grandmother. So there was a bareness to the room that hadn't been there before. Someone who hadn't known Mary would never have felt her presence in the room. Sybil could still feel her, but it wasn't like before, right after she had died, where even entering the room brought a rush of tears. Sometimes she thought Edith had the right if in leaving, getting away. For all they squabbled, Edith had been devastated when Mary died.

Sybil shook that thought off as she took a seat on the bed and let her hand rest on the silky bedding. It was easier, and harder than she expected. It wasn't so much that she didn't feel Mary in the room, it was that she didn't feel as though Mary was upset. Sometimes, especially soon after Mary had died, Sybil had needed to brace herself when entering, because the room felt so angry and sad, as though Mary was there and incensed that she was no longer alive to be the center of everyone's attention. Now though, it felt calmer.

She waited a long moment. "I'm sorry you're gone. I miss you. No matter what thoughts I'm having today, I'd give up any thought of that if it meant you could be here. I mean that, Mary, I do. But if you're here right now, then you're already rolling your eyes at me because you were always the practical one. There's no coming back and you'd tell me that if you could." She hesitated. "I don't know what's happening. I don't know what Matthew is feeling… He's much quieter about what he feels. It's so different than Tom." And his words to her at the dance rose up in her mind, that new love would be different and they had to be open to the idea that it wouldn't be the same. "I don't know what I'm feeling, if this is love or just friendship but… I want to find out what this is. Whatever it is, I want you to know that I want to be worthy of your love for me. I haven't forgotten who held me while I cried for Tom." She looked around the room, feeling suddenly if someone was watching her. "Please don't be angry, please be happy."

The sun suddenly came out from behind the clouds, shining into the room like a beacon. The light rested on the chair by the vanity where Mary had so often sat and brushed her hair, and then the clouds moved back and the bright light dimmed. Sybil wiped her eyes, feeling at peace with her decision. Whether it was love or friendship, she was no longer worried about how Mary would feel.


	7. Chapter 7

He struggled to not raise his voice. He would have, if Cousin Violet hadn't joined him and his mother for afternoon tea. "No, Mother, I am not terribly interested in hearing how Miss Fox found me charming and would like to see more of me. To be perfectly honest, I didn't particularly enjoy her company. We're not well suited. If you convince Cousin Robert to invite the woman here for the holidays, you will succeed only in making the poor woman take a lengthy trip away from London for nothing."

His mother gave him a sour look, while Violet suppressed a titter. That confirmed the fact that his mother had been conferring with Violet on the topic. Which was all the more irritating. Isobel set her tea cup down. "I didn't realize you had taken against Miss Fox. Are you just being contrary or are there reasons?"

Matthew also set down his tea cup. She was determined to pick a fight with him, he could tell, but he doubted she would like the end result. "I have many reasons. Are you going to listen to them? Since you seem to think I am just spiting you?"

Violet tittered again. Oddly, Matthew had gotten a sense from the elderly woman, that she wasn't as devoted to the idea that he remarry as his mother was. That, and she enjoyed watching anyone, even him, needle his mother. "Mother, Miss Fox wants to see more of me because I am more handsome, richer, and inheriting a better title than Tony Gillingham. We share no common interests. I suspect she thinks I'm intimidated by pretty women, and that I would be easy to manipulate and deceive. She doesn't really want a husband, she wants a pretty male doll to hold her arm and to spend his life telling her how pretty she is. Oh, and trust me, she was very clear in explaining how she adores the nightlife in London, the new jazz scene and how dull life in the York countryside must be. She has no knowledge of current events or things that are happening outside of London and she found it hilarious and quaint that I asked her what the last book she read was. Tell me, Mother, does it really seem like Miss Fox and I are well suited?"

"I suppose not," Isobel said tiredly. "But since we're actually speaking about the young women you met, was there anyone that you'd consider seeing more of?"

He felt his face flush. Stop blushing like a school boy, he warned himself to no avail, you know you'll just make things worse all around if she thinks for a moment that you met anyone. And he hadn't. In the weeks and months since the Season, he had considered again and again why he'd been so outspoken to Sybil. They were friends, they shared the tragedies of their lives, it was natural that they had developed an affection for each other, a close friendship that could be nothing more. That she fled away as soon as he had finished his thought was an indicator. He was just grateful that she had quietly forgiven him and resumed being a source of gentle support in the business. It wasn't possible anyway. She had as much told him that, and she was his dead wife's sister which made it even worse to consider. "There's no one, Mother," he lied. "Some of them were very nice young women, who will make lovely wives to someone. Just not to me." He stood up as she began to protest. "I understand your concerns, Mother. I don't have a wish to never find love again. It's just not going to happen in an instant. And it won't happen with a woman like Miss Fox. Now, tea has been delightful, but I need to head back to the Abbey."

That was a lie as well, not only was he completely caught up on his court cases, the jam and cheese business was at a bit of a lull. They had made a bid for Wellington's land, a fair bid, but the aristocrat was still mulling over the offer. Holding out for better, Matthew suspected, and possibly balking at the notion of selling to Robert. He sensed there had been some sort of land dispute in years past with the prior Lord Grantham. So he took a brisk walk around the village to work off the biscuits at tea, and browsed in the book store and flower shop before slowly making his way back to the Abbey. The church was on the way, and he'd known the moment he'd stepped into the flower shop that he'd be stopping at the cemetery.

He'd learned that it wasn't as hard if he acknowledged more than Mary. So first he set a flower on William's grave, and the two other soldiers who he had known in the war. Then he put flowers on poor Lavinia's grave, and Reggie Swire's marker. He knew it was due to how closely together they had died that Tom Branson's grave was so close to Mary's but it still made him smile, knowing how she'd make a show of being annoyed over being buried next to the family chauffeur. He set a flower on Tom's grave and then hers and took a seat on small bench. What to say, he pondered, to both of you.

"You know, your mother means well." He stood up at the sound of Cousin Violet's voice. The elderly woman walked over the bench and took a seat next to him. "She worries about you. For you. She doesn't want you to find yourself old and alone, denying yourself companionship because you were married once. And she worries you see her as an example when the circumstances weren't the same."

"I know she means well," Matthew offered tiredly. "Believe me when I say, I am not being obstinate about Miss Mabel Lane Fox merely to spite my mother and upset her."

Violet chuckled. "Don't mind me," she said after a moment, "you know how I enjoy being right. I told Isobel that young lady wasn't going to be the one." She gave him a sly look. "You did a marvelous job of driving all those young ladies away. Miss Fox is only pressing for attention because you're right. She thinks you're the best prospect and she wants to win the best prize, and not have to settle for young Gillingham." She nodded sagely. "The two of you have nothing in common and you'd bore each other to death if she didn't stab you over some imagined affair."

"Please tell Mother that," he chuckled. "She listens to you more than I."

"Not really. Isobel has this rather rosy notion that you and Mary were very alike in how you both would handle this situation." Violet gave him a knowing look. "What do you think Mary would be doing if she was in your place? If she was a widow of almost two years?"

Matthew laughed. "If our positions were reversed, Mary likely would already be engaged. To young Gillingham most likely, and she would have gone after Tony partly to give Miss Mabel Lane Fox a lesson in how to not count out a widowed woman. And Mother would be choking it down and trying to be pleasant about it but secretly would be seething that Mary wasn't still mourning me." He laughed again, and it felt good. "I knew my own wife quite well, Cousin Violet. Mary would have mourned me deeply, but she was an eminently practical woman when it came to matters of the heart. If I had died that day, I have no doubt she would have grieved, and I like to think she'd have some difficulty in moving on, but she would have. And she would have found new love because she was far too practical to think that she could never love again. It wasn't coldness, Mary was never cold, but she was always a realist. It would have hurt her, but once she accepted I was gone, she would have moved forward. And I would have wanted that. I couldn't bear the idea of Mary spending her life alone because she couldn't accept I was dead." Before Violet could make the comment he knew she was about to make, he held up his hand to stop her. "I am not planning to spend my life alone, mourning Mary. But she was much stronger than I in this respect. I admit, I'm having a harder time than she would have but I haven't ruled out new love."

"I don't think you have, Matthew." Violet took his hand and patted it gently. "In fact, I think your heart has been telling you something your head isn't willing to consider. Yet. Is it Mary you think would be angry with you? Or your mother? Or Robert and Cora? Is it me you worry about?" She looked at him intently. "I would never be angry over love, Matthew." She nodded towards the grave stones. "Once I was certain Sybil loved that man, I never protested their marriage. Edith has married that divorced man and I haven't protested that. I even sent them a wedding gift, and I've invited them here for the holidays." She waited a long moment. "You aren't certain, are you?"

"No," he said quickly. "And I don't… I don't think my feelings are returned. And, I find myself wondering if I am just assuming and taking advantage of… her affection. And that we live in the same house, our children play together, we even work together…"

"How terrible," Violet said, her voice betraying her amusement, "Having love develop between two people who have shared so much time together."

"And what if I am wrong?" Matthew snapped. "I assure you, it's entirely possible for me to be wrong in affairs of the heart. I mean, good lord, you witnessed my courtship of Mary. What mistake didn't I make?"

Violet patted his hand. "Oh Matthew, many have done worse. But since you need cheering, let me tell you the mistakes you didn't make. You never judged Mary for what happened with Kemal. I know after Lavinia passed that you felt a responsibility… and instead of punishing yourself for the rest of your life, you took a chance on love with Mary and asked her to marry you. I don't think you regret taking that chance, do you?"

"No," he said quietly. He looked at Mary's grave and sighed. "Not at all. If nothing else, I had the time I had, and I have George. It's just… it would be very different. It's odd, that Sybil and I have actually discussed this. New love would be different." He sighed again. "I don't know that I am ready for it to be different. And if I am wrong, it makes things very awkward." And yet he couldn't deny that part of him was more than curious, that he wanted to test the waters and see what would come of it.

Another part of him quailed at how badly it could go. "Sybil told me that she could only love a man who was worthy of Tom's memory. He was my friend. How can I be worthy of his memory if I am betraying him." It worried him, the very idea. Tom had truly been a friend, almost a brother

"I believe," Violet said carefully, "that Tom Branson would never have denied Sybil a moment of happiness. I'm not your mother, Matthew, and I don't think your life long happiness depends on being married. I do think it depends on your willingness to take a chance. What is it that men say? Fortune favors the bold." She smiled at him. "I think you both are far too worried about the other to not consider the possibility."


	8. Chapter 8

For a wonder, Edith realized as she and Michael sat down to their welcome home luncheon at Downton, everyone seemed determined to be upbeat and pleasant and not take her to task for the things that they had argued about in letter and over the telephone for the last year. She had almost decided against going to Downton, because they were in the middle of moving back to London, but Michael and Aunt Rosamunde had changed her mind. We're going to live in London now, Michael had said as they walked down the gangplank to the docks of London, and your family comes to London all the time, and you've missed them all so much. Aunt Rosamunde had agreed and added that Edith might find her parents much more forgiving than she expected.

So far, that was proving accurate. Her mother had taken baby Marigold into her arms and not said one word about Marigold being born just eight months after the wedding. Her father had also been pleasant, delighted to see her and the baby, and if he seemed a little stern to Michael, he mellowed a bit at hearing that they were going to resume living in England. Matthew hadn't approved of the relationship, she knew that from Michael, but aside from chiding her for worrying the family, he had moved past it quite easily. He had still been in the throes of his grief, it was more of a surprise that her absence was even noticed but she had taken it as a good sign that he religiously wrote her chummy letters about the family. He looked much better as well. He had been too thin and careworn when she left. Now he looked better, more healthy, even talking about Mary without wincing or lapsing into melancholy. Sybil likewise was better. Bright and cheery and laughing with cousin Rose about some silly party Rose had been invited to, and including Michael in the luncheon conversation.

"It sounds like," Edith said carefully as the servants took away the plates, "everyone has been very busy since I left. Is there anything planned for this afternoon and evening?" She assumed her mother would want to talk and get reacquainted and hear all of their plans in London.

"I thought I'd give Michael a tour of the estate," Robert said magnanimously, as though he was granting a great favor. Of course, Edith realized, in his mind he was. He was treating Michael the way he would a new son in law, despite the awkwardness of the marriage.

"Rose and I were going to get started on the Christmas planning," Cora said pleasantly. "You should join us, Edith. You were always so clever with decorating."

In other words, she wasn't being asked but Edith nodded agreement. She did enjoy it and she suspected her mother had saved the planning for her as something they could do together. And something that wouldn't be a reminder of Mary. Even just two years after, she could still see the hurt in her mother's eyes. It was lucky, Edith thought as she looked at her smiling younger sister, that it wasn't Sybil. Mary was the eldest but Sybil was her mother's favorite. It would have broken her mother if it had been Sybil. Sybil's letters made that clear, that and how it had been almost a blessing that Rose was wild but willing to be tamed. It had given Cora the distraction she needed from her grief. "That sounds lovely, Mama. Sybil, will you be joining us?"

"Actually," Matthew chimed in, looking suddenly flush, "I was going to a book reading in Ripon this afternoon, and I thought… that Sybil might like to join me."

Sybil also blushed and looked down at her hands. "I think that would be quite nice, Matthew. Is this the author you were telling me about?"

"Yes." Matthew looked even more hesitant. "If you like, we can have dinner at La Rue, that new French restaurant that is so desperate to get a contract for our cheese."

Sybil laughed. "We could make sure they're worthy. And Edith, that would let you and Michael have some time with Mama and Papa. Do you mind?"

"Not at all," Edith assured. But suddenly, with both Matthew and Sybil looking painfully embarrassed while the rest of the family beamed with pleasure, she was suddenly filled with questions. Across the table, Michael's eyes twinkled at her and she knew he was thinking the same thing she was.

She was further intrigued by the fact that both Matthew and Sybil took pains to change into outfits that were a bit fancy for a day in Ripon. She held her tongue until they were driving away towards the train station in Matthew's convertible to turn to Rose and say, "So what is going on here?"

Rose and Cora both began giggling as they pulled her into the parlor. "We think," Rose said in a conspiratorial stage whisper, "That Matthew and Sybil might have developed affection for each other and we are trying to encourage it."

"Really?" Edith took a seat as she considered it. She looked at her mother. "You haven't mentioned this in your letters, Mama."

Cora hesitated. "It's like saying your birthday wish after you blow out the candles, Edith. If you talk about it, it doesn't come true."

"Do you want it to be true?" Edith asked. She could see that Rose was simply taken by the romantic notion of two people finding love after tragedy. Edith understood the appeal, she felt it herself, that and the joy in knowing something good would come of the twin tragedies. "They're such different people… they married such different people." Although the more it rolled around in her head, the more she saw it. Matthew married a strong willed woman who he could cherish but also respect and spar with intellectually. And Sybil married a man who wasn't afraid of work, and who wasn't afraid of what people thought, a man that would love and honor her regardless of her status. She nodded suddenly, and smiled at Cora. "I see the possibility but… "

"You worry there's too much against it," Cora agreed. "So do I, but I take today as a good sign." Her mother frowned slightly. "You're not against it, are you, Edith?"

Edith shook her head, pleased that her mother was asking and glad to tell the truth. "If it's what they want, then I want it too. They both deserve more happiness than what they've received, Mama. If I have learned nothing from my own marriage, it's how happy it makes me to have Michael and Marigold in my life." And she wondered if she could have borne the tragedies Sybil and Matthew had faced. That her parents had faced. "Mama… I am sorry, you know. About leaving without a word when everything was still so freshly awful. I was selfish."

Her mother shook her head and smiled. "I wish your father and I could have attended the wedding, and I won't lie, I was angry about your decision… at the time. But I think in a way, it was a jolt we all needed, and I think you made the right decision. I liked Michael when we met, and I think I rather like that he'd go to such lengths to be with you. That said, he is divorced and you two may find that difficult, even in London. I trust you've thought about that."

It was, Edith realized, so odd to realize her mother did pay attention to her.

0o0o0o0

Matthew kept his eyes on the road and on the speedometer. It hadn't occurred to him, until it was too late that Sybil hadn't, since Tom's accident, been terribly fond of car rides. The ride to the train station had been fine, but it had also been daylight. Now it was evening, dark and cloudy without even a moon to provide light. It was a night like the night Tom Branson had died and he worried that he had, in his typical way, managed to blunder unintentionally by inviting Sybil to a nice event and dinner and then shoved reminders of poor Tom in her face. It was right up there with insulting Mary and tripping poor Lavinia, he thought worriedly as he glanced at her strained face.

"Turn right at the crossroads," she said suddenly. "I know it's not on the way. I want to see something, if you don't mind."

"All right," he said easily, turning the car down the dirt road. It led up a hill and at the top, he saw that the road led into a small valley. It was one of the estate's tenancies, a farmstead that had sat fallow under Jenkins but that Tom and he had improved and gotten working again.

"Stop here, for a moment," Sybil said, her tone oddly bright. She pointed at the farmstead, at the glowing lamps inside. "Who lives there now?"

"A family named Taylor," Matthew dredged it up from memory. "A nice house but not great land for farming and the Taylors keep sheep for their livelihood so it's a good use of a tenancy that was hard to keep people in." He glanced at her. "Why does this interest you?"

"Oh…" Sybil smiled sadly. "A small regret. Tom was always grateful that Papa let us move in after he had to leave Ireland but it touched his pride that he didn't provide a home for me and the coming child. He was saving his salary as the estate manager so he could offer to buy a farm cottage on the estate for us and this is the place we were going to ask Papa to sell to us. Because it was a nice house and Tom wouldn't be farming so the estate would lose nothing. Papa would have given it to us if I'd asked but Tom insisted that he have the money in hand to offer." She sighed. "I regret I didn't push him to make the offer sooner. Papa wouldn't have required a big down payment and we could have had that time together as a family in our own home. But when I balance that with how it would have hurt Tom to ask Papa for a favor… This might shock you, Matthew, but Tom respected Papa a great deal and wanted to prove to him that he was capable of taking care of me and the baby. So we waited… and it never happened and I regret that. Even though we were very happy, I wish he'd had that moment of pride. That's what I regret. It's good though, to see a family in that house. Does that make sense?"

Matthew nodded. "It does." He gave her a small smile of his own. "I wanted something very similar. I wanted Mary and I to live in our own home for a bit. In York or maybe London. I thought it would be good for the two of us to live alone as a couple, to do things as a couple with our own place before I _had_ to live in Downton." He took a deep breath and let it out. "I never wanted or expected to become an earl. I won't shirk the duty when it comes but it wasn't what I planned for my life. I would have liked a little time on our own. But… I also know that if I had pressed harder, I could have gotten my way and in retrospect, knowing how it ended, I'm glad Mary and I lived where she wanted to live. It seems so silly now." He paused. It was awkward, because Sybil was a friend and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to chance something more, but it felt right to share. "My regret, my real regret, is that we didn't marry in 1914. I let my pride get in the way. I thought she was hesitating because she was worried I wouldn't be earl." He chuckled suddenly and looked at Sybil. "I'm not so sentimental in my memories of Mary that I can rule that out entirely, but what she was really worried about was Kemal." A thought struck him and he raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, Sybil… did you know about Kemal?"

As he said it, he almost cursed. This is why Mary always laughed at you, he told himself, because you pick the oddest, most awkward things to talk about. The point of asking Sybil to dinner was to see if his romantic notions were just in his head and here they were, sitting in the dark looking at the house Sybil had planned to live in with her husband, discussing how his wife killed a man in her bed. "I… I'm sorry. It occurs to me how awkward this is."

"Oh Matthew," Sybil said, her eyes twinkling. She started giggling. "I was thinking the same thing… that we had just had a lovely unchaperoned evening where I think we're both realizing that there could be something between us… and I am ruining it by detouring to the cottage Tom and I once thought about living in… And then you make it ten times worse by bringing up your endless engagement with Mary and Kemal's unfortunate end. " Her giggling increased. "We're talking about Kemal! Kemal the Turk and how he died in Mary's bed and how Anna and Mama had to carry his body back to his room so no one would know!"

"I thought…" He started to laugh himself, feeling a sort of release from the tension of being together. "I thought it was Bates that helped them. I can't… I can't even picture your mother…" His laughing increased. "We shouldn't be laughing," he said finally, between chuckles. "He blackmailed her, and she was afraid to tell me and that's the bigger reason she hesitated. She was so frightened the night she told me, that I'd reject her…"

"Then you shouldn't blame yourself," Sybil said after a long moment. "For the first proposal not working, at least not entirely. If Mary ever made a mistake, it was in thinking you wouldn't take her side in that mess. And yes, to answer your question, I knew about Kemal. I think the only one who didn't know about Kemal is poor Carson." She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Are we chasing something that isn't here, Matthew?"

"I… I don't know…" he admitted. Then, despite his fear, he leaned over and kissed her on the lips. She didn't pull away, in fact she met him eagerly, and for one long, delicious moment, they kissed with pure abandon.

Then she pulled away, a slight smile still on her lips. "We _are_ chasing something real, Matthew. Do you agree?"

"Yes," he said, just a bit breathless from surprise. "But we should take this slowly." Because he was certain his thoughts were an utter whirlwind.

"Yes," she agreed. Then she laughed. "With one caveat. I'm not Mary, and there's no Kemal in my past. This won't be easy for either of us, but we're different people. It took both of us years and years and a war to marry the first time. Everyone will point and laugh if it takes us that long again to make a decision. We both need time to think… but I think we can do a little better this time around, don't you?"

"I think that's fair," he agreed. He turned the car on. "We should get home. I suspect your parents are likely already worried about us. And I'll need to speak to Robert… about us." That was a conversation he was already dreading. His hands clenched the wheel of the car.

"You needn't look so worried," Sybil said, still smiling. "He's been quite nice to poor Michael who swept his second daughter off to Germany, and I heard he was quite nice to his eldest's beau as well."

"I suppose," he laughed, "that you're quite right but I do need some time to gather my thoughts We haven't even talked about… so many things."

As much as it worried him, taking the next few steps, Matthew had to admit, it had been far too long since he had felt so happy.


	9. Chapter 9

It wasn't entirely unusual to see Matthew in the cemetery early on a Saturday morning, but Isobel knew it was out of the ordinary. He usually visited the gravesite in the afternoon, fortifying himself by walking through the village and fetching flowers so that he could circle through the graves, tricking himself into visiting Mary's grave. She herself preferred the early morning time as it was quieter but she understood Matthew's method. He went in late afternoon, after he came home from work in Ripon, so that he would be tugged to leave and not let his grief overwhelm him for hours. It was a part of his day. Not per functionary, she would never say that, but a step towards moving on. It was a step towards accepting, a difficult step she knew all too well, and seeing him off schedule made her wonder if something was wrong.

She took a seat beside him on the cold stone bench. "You're here very early, Matthew," Isobel said carefully.

He nodded and smiled at her. "I know, I'm often a creature of habit. I couldn't sleep, I was pondering some decisions, and I remembered that someone else in my life is a creature of habit so…. Here we are."

Interesting, Isobel thought. "Are you looking for advice from your mother, Matthew?"

He chuckled. "Not exactly. Approval, I think. And perhaps advice." His eyes moved from her to the grave in front of him. "I still miss her terribly."

She patted his knee. "I still miss your father. It eases but it never fully goes away. It can't, because it is love. It can be bittersweet. But it does ease, and the reminders become less painful and more joyful." Isobel waited a long moment. "You are so much like your father. Not just in your looks, but in your kindness, your thoughtfulness. It's like an echo. One day, you will see or hear little George doing something and you'll see Mary. I already do."

He chuckled again, more ruefully. "I'm afraid I don't see it at all. He looks very much like me."

"Oh, I see it in his expressions, in his eyes. When he's cross, he furrows his little brow and gets that firm, irritated look, that look Mary gave you the first time you met." She found herself laughing at Matthew's sudden surprise. "I think he has her temper, her spirit. You'll need to be firm but gentle in directing him. He's like Mary, he'll want his way."

"When you said it, I suddenly see it as clear as day, his cross face when Nanny decides he's ready for a nap, and he doesn't agree," Matthew said, chuckling more. "Oh, thank you, Mother. I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever see the resemblance. Poor Robert was remarking the other day that it's as if George sprung from my forehead while little Kate has Sybil's hair and coloring but Tom's eyes and face. And he thinks Edith's little Marigold looks like Mary, much to Edith's surprise." After a moment though, his good cheer faded back to pensiveness. "I must admit, that's not what had me tossing and turning. I… may have found someone, Mother."

Good, she thought suddenly. She didn't say that out loud because she didn't want to scare him away from the topic, particularly when she was fairly certain she knew who the someone was. "You certainly don't need my permission to court a girl, Matthew. And you don't need Mary's. She wouldn't have wanted you unhappy." She sighed suddenly. "Cousin Violet and I disagree on this point. She thinks Mary would be quite entranced with the idea that you loved her so that you never considered another after her death."

"You don't agree, I take it?" He smiled wryly at her.

She gripped his hand reassuringly. "I think the idea would have pleased her because she was a woman and deep down we women all like the idea of being so beloved. But once she saw the reality of it, she would change her mind. Your happiness meant a great deal to her." She hesitated, wanting to be honest but also wanting to be kind. "I won't say I was always pleased that you and Mary fell in love. I worried, that she was shallow, that she loved what you represented and not you. But I was wrong. She loved you more than she loved herself, and since she loved herself a great deal, that means she loved you a great deal more. She would be happy that you were happy. She knew how deeply you loved her, and if she's looking down on you, and not ruling Heaven's social scene with an iron fist, she would be happy to know that you've found someone to share your life. Even… even if it was someone she knew."

He smiled and nodded. "You know. You know that it's Sybil."

"I suspected. And hoped, despite my initial worry." He is so like Reginald, Isobel thought again, he doesn't realize just how long we've all suspected it. It was another bittersweet echo. The likeness did make her wonder though. He shared one of Reginald's flaws. "Have you talked to Sybil? About how you feel about her?"

Matthew nodded, which relieved her. "She thinks that… we're chasing something real, and that we'll need to grant each other some grace because new love will be different. I worry that perhaps we know too much… I remember her with Tom and how he was always following her with his eyes, even before they were married. He was a braver man than I realized. Did you know his family didn't approve of his wife? He stood up for her, he stood up for me at my wedding, and now I'm considering taking his wife…I should feel like a lout and yet I don't, and I don't know why."

"Because you're in love with her, Matthew, and he was your good friend and you know, deep down, that he wouldn't be angry, much like you know Mary wouldn't be angry." She gave him a knowing smile. "Have you considered how you will discuss this? With the family?"

"Not really. It's… something of a new topic to begin with." He laughed again. "I'm afraid I don't know the polite way of telling Robert I'd like his permission to court another of his daughters, although Sybil assures me he's likely to take it better than when Tom asked him." He seemed to consider it more seriously. "If we go forward, if this goes to conclusion, I'll be raising Tom's child as my own."

"And Sybil will be raising George as her own," Isobel reminded him. "And perhaps they will both have half brothers and sisters. You should consider discussing this at the upcoming Christmas dinner party." She smiled, enjoying the notion that she had her own surprise. "I'm coming, and Lord Merton will be escorting me. He's asked a particular question that I intend to answer then. It might distract everyone from you and Sybil."

Matthew's eyes widened in surprise, and she was glad to see, happiness. "Did he ask you to marry him? Are you going to say yes?"

"He did, and I think so." She looked him in the eyes. "I wanted your opinion… since he'll be your stepfather."

"Goodness, won't that be a jolly announcement?" Matthew beamed his pleasure at her. "I like him, Mother. I like him a great deal so if he makes you happy then I think it's wonderful." He grinned with amusement. "That means you'll be a baroness. I can't wait to see Cousin Violet's face when she hears the news."

"I don't think I raised you to be so spiteful," Isobel chided. Then she grinned happily. "But I confess, I can't wait to see her face either."

"I like Michael," Sybil said as she brushed her hair in front of the vanity mirror. She turned to Edith. "He suits you. You're both clever and modern, and he's so very much in love with you." They were dressing in what had become the ladies dressing room after Mary had died. It was a small bedroom between her room and Rose's and it just seemed silly to make Anna run back and forth between their rooms. Edith had seen the sense of the arrangement immediately. It was almost like when they were little girls sharing a room, getting ready for a dinner party, with Anna helping them with their dresses and hair. Except of course, that Rose was there, and Mary was not. "It's so strange, getting ready like this."

Edith sat down next to her. "It is. Like old times. There's a holiday dinner, and we're getting dressed and…" She sighed. "I keep expecting Mary to insist I look frumpy and dowdy."

Ironic, Sybil thought suddenly, that Edith had blossomed into such a fashion maven. "Nonsense, Edith. If I know Mary, she'd be seething with jealousy over your dress."

Edith laughed. "Yes, and she'd be making catty remarks at Michael, until Matthew chided her." She smiled at Sybil. "And I feel so silly admitting that I miss that. And then I find myself wondering if she's watching us, looking down on us."

"Oh come now," Rose said. "Mary liked holiday parties. And she would love that dress and you look lovely in it, Edith."

And Rose blunted some of Mary's edges when she had first come, Sybil realized. It had been a new dynamic when Rose had come to them, Sybil thought, we'd all been grown up but not ready to move past our childhoods despite our marriages. Rose being there had forced them all to play nice for once. "She's right, Edith. You look lovely, and Mary did love holiday parties. And this will be a good party, I think." She blushed suddenly. Matthew had talked to Robert earlier that day, he'd told her as much, and things would be announced. Not an engagement, not yet, but a courtship. So that they could see how it felt to be considered a couple and not the grieving widow and widower. "There will be some… news."

Rose almost lept up from the vanity and turned to her. "What kind of news, Sybil?" She grinned suddenly. "Oh, do tell! Don't make us wait!"

"It's a surprise," Sybil insisted, struggling not to laugh as both Edith and Rose rolled their eyes at her. "It's not even that much of a surprise." But, she decided, it would be nice to have some allies other than Papa. She didn't expect anyone in the family to be upset at her, she had gotten the sense, from some of Edith's comments, that she and Matthew weren't existing in secret. Edith had hinted gently that she was well pleased. Her worry was that there were guests for dinner, Lord Merton and his sons and several other families and couples from surrounding estates. It wasn't forbidden, but it was unorthodox and she did worry it would be a problem. A minor problem but one that could ruin the party. "I'll tell you but you can't let on that you know. Matthew has asked Papa if he can court me and Papa said yes."

Rose literally jumped for joy while Edith beamed. "I knew it would work!" Rose cried out joyfully. "I knew it! Oh Sybil, I am so happy for you. You don't know how long I've been trying to match you two. Do you remember when we went book shopping for Matthew? That's when I knew I had to try! Everyone will be so pleased!"

"You've… been trying to match us?" As she said it, and as Rose nodded in delight, she suddenly realized just how many times Rose had suggested outings and events.

"I think Mama and Granny may have been helping," Edith added helpfully. "As soon as I raised the question of what was going on, Mama was all 'don't stare, you'll startle them'." She hesitated only a moment. "I know, because I know you, that you won't consider a man simply because you've been told to. I know you know your own mind. And I feel like I should tell you to be careful… except that I threw caution to the wind and found exactly what I needed and wanted with Michael in Germany. You decided on courting not because you're uncertain but because you want to let us get used to the idea and that's admirable but… Oh Sybil, don't worry about us. Go at the pace you feel is right. And do know how glad I am for you."

"Are you really?" Sybil asked. "I admit, I think I'm more worried about how people will react to Matthew than to me. It is frowned upon, you know."

"It's not so frowned upon since the war," Edith said quickly. "And Papa hasn't invited anyone who isn't a friend and Mama hinted to me that Cousin Isobel might have some news of her own to tell."

Rose chuckled. "I do hope she and Lord Merton are decided. They make a nice couple."

"Lord Merton? But…" Then Sybil laughed herself. "Oh, I shouldn't say it because we're not decided but…. This reminds me of right before Tom and I decided and I was in such a daze of delight that I wasn't paying attention to anything or anyone…. Cousin Isobel and Lord Merton?"

"Oh, it's absolutely delightful!" Rose chimed. "Tonight will be so much fun!"


	10. Chapter 10

Matthew took a seat at the dining table next to Sybil and found himself realizing that he felt genuinely happy. It had been too long, he thought as Sybil took a seat next to him, and Mother was right. Mary would never have grudged me any happiness, he thought suddenly. If their roles had been different, if he had been the one to die, he never would have expected her to be alone, and he couldn't imagine that she'd want that for him. Not his Mary.

As he had the thought, Rose took position across the table from him and fairly smirked at Sybil, who blushed. Edith, he noticed, was also all smiles and pleased, and Cora as well. "Why," he said in a low voice to Sybil, "do I have a feeling that our news isn't really news?"

Not that he minded. It was actually quite heartening, how pleased everyone looked. Including Thomas Barrow, and James, and Mosely, who was helping out because there were a lot of guests.

Sybil gave Rose a dark look, clearly telling the younger woman with her eyes to not let the secret out, and then turned to him. "Edith and Rose got it out of me while we were dressing. Anna was there, and I assume you told your mother the plan so I suspect the only people who don't know are our guests."

"At least no one is screaming in horror," Matthew noted dryly.

"Not yet," Sybil smiled at him. "Granny may be the only one surprised."

"No," Matthew said, becoming more and more amused. "She gave me her approval a few weeks ago, that she believed in love and would never stand in its way." He grinned. "I had no idea she was so romantic."

"She is always a surprise," Sybil said. Under the table, she took his hand. "Are you? In love?"

It wasn't hesitance, he realized. She was looking for certainty. "Yes," he said as he squeezed her hand and looked her in the eyes. "I am in love with you, Sybil. It _is_ different, but it is love."

She smiled and squeezed his hand in return. "Good," she said softly. "Because I am in love with you, and it is different, and we are much different people for having lived the lives we have. I'm glad that you're making the announcement. It's time we allowed our family and friends to enjoy the news." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Besides, not only has Rose been manipulating us to see more of each other this entire time, apparently, there's some sort of betting pool among the family and servants. If we declare tonight, then Edith and Barrow win five pounds each."

He couldn't help chuckling. "That's really what's important," he chortled. "Now there's no turning back." And when he looked inside himself, deeply inside, the only concern he had was that it was unconventional and some people would be unkind to Sybil. But, he thought suddenly, she's a Crawley and we're made of stern stuff. If there's any fuss, he decided, it will be me that the fusspots will need to deal with.

Robert waited until the main meal was finishing before he made a point of quieting the guests table chatter. "Matthew and I spoke earlier today about some good news. Matthew, would you like to share it?"

"Yes," Matthew said as all eyes turned to him. "Lady Sybil and I have been working together here on the estate this last year, and in doing that, we've come to realize that we may have more than the estate in common. With Lord Grantham's permission, which he graciously granted earlier today, I am pleased to announce that Lady Sybil and I are now formally courting." As the various guests and family members congratulated them both, the concerns he had fell away. The only frown at the table was from Larry Grey, and Matthew had no problem with that. Larry had been both bitter and conniving over Sybil and Tom, and had been distinctly snobbish to Matthew, making it very clear how distasteful he found Matthew's background as a lawyer. Fortunately, he thought as he smiled at Sybil and then at his mother, Larry Grey is not our problem.

His mother caught his look, nodded, and subtly prodded Lord Merton. Matthew found himself smiling even more broadly. As much as he thought his mother had begun seeing the older man as a subtle dig at him to not spend his life alone, he rather liked Dickie. The man treated Isobel well, they shared many interests, and they both deserved happiness. Having a stepfather was no trial to him. It eased his mind, to be honest. If he and Sybil did more than court, if they married, he would ultimately spend more time with his new family.

Lord Merton looked around the table. "Well, Lady Sybil, Matthew, I am very happy for you both and I hope you don't mind my riding your coattails a bit. As it happens, I have asked Isobel if she would accept me as her husband, and she has said yes."

That led to more joyous exclamations. "Mother mentioned this," Matthew said, feeling a rush of pleasure, "and while neither of you need my permission or approval, I approve whole heartedly. Welcome to the family, Lord Merton."

"Oh well said," Robert chimed, holding up his glass. Matthew started to follow suit but stopped when he realized that Larry was actually scowling at Lord Merton.

"For god's sake, Father, how can you be such a fool?" Larry wasn't quite shouting, but he was enraged, that was clear. He pointed at Isobel. "How can you possibly think this… common woman, is somehow an acceptable replacement for our mother?"

Matthew bristled but waited. Under the table, Sybil's hand met his and squeezed it reassuringly. Remember the lessons your mother and father taught you, he reminded himself. Larry was as Sybil often put it, a toad, but he'd also clearly been ambushed by his father's news. Sometimes, when people spoke in anger, it was better to wait and let them realize the error of their ways rather than jumping in and verbally pummeling them for their rudeness. Plus, he knew all too well that his mother could defend herself. If she needs my help, he thought quickly, she'll get it but we're not there yet.

Lord Merton almost rose out of his seat. "Larry! You will apologize to Isobel right now! And to Lord Grantham for being so rude to the mother of his heir!"

Larry did stand up. "I will not! She is common and not fit to be your wife. Mother is likely rolling over in her grave over the notion! And I have nothing but pity for Lord Grantham, forced by his own bad luck to scrape the very bottom of the barrel for an heir. Matthew Crawley is a bloody middle class lawyer and he's been nothing but bad luck since he came on the scene. No, Father, I'm not entranced with being stepbrother to Matthew Crawley, who can't even attract a woman he's not related to." Larry then turned his eyes to Sybil. "I swear, Lady Sybil, the only positive note of this entire evening is that your taste in men has grown slightly better. At least this time, you're not being courted by a servant. Maybe by the time you marry for the third time, you'll marry someone of your own class."

Even as he jumped to his feet, he knew Sybil and Robert and even Michael and Lord Merton were rising as well. He pointed at Larry, making sure to keep his voice calm. "You will apologize to everyone here for your insults and rudeness."

Larry smirked at him. "Or what, Crawley? You'll make me?"

"If you make it necessary," Matthew said firmly. He gestured to the door. "Now, you either apologize, or you and I will step outside. Lord Merton, I trust you don't mind if I… remind your son of some lessons in manners that he's clearly forgotten."

Lord Merton blanched just a little and then glared at Larry. Then he nodded to Matthew. "I'm afraid I allowed Larry's mother far too much say in his upbringing. I apologize for his behavior."

"I apologize for nothing!" Larry shouted. "It's all true! I can't believe you're even considering marrying into this family, Father. It's an affront to Mother's memory!"

Matthew stepped back from the table. "Then we will step outside, Larry. Because I will not allow you to speak so rudely about my mother, or my family, or Lady Sybil, and especially Tom Branson, who was a much finer man, and gentleman than you will ever be!" It made him furious, genuinely furious, to hear the man land such insults on his mother, his family and on poor Tom as well. He gestured to the door. "Let's step outside and settle this, Larry."

0o0o0o0

Sybil smirked as the realization crossed Larry's face that Matthew wasn't backing down, that he had no problem taking Larry outside for a lesson in manners and fisticuffs. It was a lesson Larry sorely needed. As angry as his nasty comments about Tom made her, she had always tried to be understanding of Larry's anger. They hadn't exactly been betrothed to each other, but it would have pleased both families if she had liked Larry. And in a mercenary way, Larry had liked her, in the sense that she would have been a perfectly acceptable wife. High born, pretty, and that was all Larry really cared about, which is why she never had any interest in him. Tom had never cared beyond the difficulties it would cause her that she was a lord's daughter. And Matthew… She smiled suddenly. Matthew was a man who chose who he chose. Lavinia had been middle class, and Mary certainly hadn't, and Sybil herself was coming to understand that Matthew saw her in a completely different way than he had seen Mary. He valued her input in the jam and cheese business. She had asked him about his work as a solicitor and he had been surprised and shyly pleased that she had taken an interest in his cases. Mary had always viewed his being a lawyer as a sort of amusing quirk, something that he did that she allowed but that held little interest to her. It was one of the differences, just like how she sometimes reveled in being able to talk about a book or a play or something from her childhood without having to take care that it might rankle Tom's pride. Tom's flaw, something she had always tried to help him with, was that he sometimes allowed his pride to overcome his normal good sense. Matthew's flaw was a tendency to worry about everyone except himself.

And Larry was a dishonest cheat. She got up from the table. "I'm going with you," she said quickly to Matthew. He frowned but only just, she suspected he was more embarrassed that he was about to fight Larry like a school boy than any objection that she wanted to watch.

"Yes, come along, Lady Sybil," Larry jeered. "I'm sure he'll need your help. He's a whipped cur of a mama's boy."

Matthew rolled his eyes and smirked. "I'm not the one who is throwing a fit like a child over his parent remarrying." He then made a show of gesturing to Sybil to sit down. "Lady Sybil, I appreciate your wish to cheer me on but I think you'll recall who got the worst of it the last time we went to a fight together. I doubt your father will be as forgiving."

Sybil acquiesced, especially when she caught the stern look from her mother, and the more worried look from her father. She glared at Larry. "Larry has proven by his actions in the past that he'll cheat rather than fight fair. I want someone observing this lesson in manners. To make sure Larry doesn't cheat."

"How dare you!" Larry said angrily.

"You drugged my husband!" Sybil shot back. "You drugged him so he'd make a scene so you could be cruel! Let's be clear, Larry, the only reason you were invited tonight was because we all like Cousin Isobel and we all like your father. You were invited as a kindness to your father, and my father asked my permission to allow it as you had been so incredibly rude and nasty previously. I gave permission because I hoped you had grown up and look at where we are!" She turned her attention to Matthew. "When you teach this particular lesson, please teach it well."

Matthew nodded, his eyes twinkling. "I do promise, Lady Sybil."

"And," Michael said as he rose to his feet, "I will monitor the lesson. I am a reporter by trade, after all. Lady Sybil, would that be acceptable?" Michael smiled winningly at her. She nodded agreement. Michael graciously gestured at Matthew and then Larry. "I trust this will be a round of traditional fisticuffs?"

Matthew nodded. So did Larry. Without further ado, the three men left the dining room. Robert made a gesture to Barrow, and the under butler followed them out.

"I am terribly sorry for Larry's behavior," Lord Merton began. Robert waved it off.

"He's a grown man," Robert said easily. "There's a point where one's children become responsible for their own behavior, Lord Merton. I take no offense against you at all and I congratulate you and Isobel on your decision to wed. You both deserve much happiness." He gave Sybil an amused look. "And Sybil, I think we didn't get a chance to comment on your news but your mother and I are quite pleased. How do you feel about it, Isobel?"

Sybil tried not to smile at how blatantly and awkwardly her father was changing the subject. Isobel, for her part, was clearly still taken back by Larry's outrage.

Finally, the older woman nodded with pleasure to Sybil. "It was a surprise when the notion first reared its head but... I think you're both well suited and uniquely aware of the challenges of marriage. I am certain the two of you will have a successful courtship." She smiled and then turned her attention to Lord Merton. "I am concerned about what just happened…"

"I'm not," Merton said. He put his hand over hers on the table. "My son is a grown man, as Robert says. I will always be his father and it is his decision to accept my choice of second wife. I mean really, it's not as though you'll be tucking him at night. He's being quite childish and rude."

"Still, it's something to consider," Isobel said worriedly. Sybil wondered at that, but then realized what was troubling her. They were father and son and Isobel didn't want to make the relationship worse. That is something we'll need to consider, Sybil realized suddenly. George and Katie were both very young but it can be awkward when they get older. George will be titled, any children we have together will be titled, and Katie will be Tom's daughter which could make her resentful. George likewise could find himself feeling as though he's the odd one out, saddled with responsibilities and a stepmother instead of a mother.

She shook off the thought as Matthew and Michael strode back in. Michael was smiling, while Matthew was brushing himself off and straightening his clothes. They both took their seats. Everyone looked expectantly at Matthew. He took a sip of wine. "Larry will not be rejoining us at the table, I'm afraid. Mr. Barrow is taking him to have his nose and eye tended to by Doctor Clarkson, but he has agreed to tender apologies in person to each of you tomorrow."

Rose broke the silence by tittering. "He agreed to that?"

Matthew nodded. "I explained in brief detail how much worse things would be if he decided to not keep his word. Mother, you will be first… and you must let me know if you find the apology acceptable." He winked at her. "At the very least, I think I've established where I stand with my new stepbrother. Lord Merton, I have no concern about how you will treat my mother. I am sure it will be with love and respect. I hope that you and I will have a warm relationship as well… but I do demand that your sons conduct themselves like gentlemen when it comes to my mother, and I will administer more lessons if they are needed."

"Well said," Robert chimed, holding up his drink. That seemed to end the matter, the chatter went back to the upcoming holiday. Matthew then surreptitiously wrapped his napkin around his knuckles.

Sybil took his hand, under the table. In a low voice, she asked, "Are you all right?"

He shrugged. "A little sore. Fighting is foolish, after all is said and done. But after what he said about you, and Tom, and Mother… Some things can't be allowed to pass." Then his good humor seemed to come back into his voice. "For the record, I am convinced the dull witted son is Larry, not Tim. I mean really, Sybil, he insults the mother of a man he thinks is a mama's boy? And doesn't expect a thrashing for his troubles? You were wise to choose Tom over him. Even Mary said that."

It made her smile.


	11. Chapter 11

The air smelled like rain and fresh flowers, the fresh scent of spring. The breeze was light and brisk, the sort of day that brought people out of doors for the first time since winter had settled in. Matthew stepped through the small gate that led to the cemetery, flowers in hand. I'm out of pattern, he thought suddenly, a smile crossing his face, it's morning, not afternoon. Mary will be expecting Mother, not me.

And that was a silly thought, he chided himself as he took a seat on the small bench in front of her grave. If Cousin Violet was right, Mary was ruling Heaven's social scene with glee. He sat for a long moment, hoping to find the right words.

Finally, he had to chuckle. "Oh Mary, how do you always manage to reduce me to a tongue tied mess?" For an instant, he thought he heard her laugh with amusement. Then he pressed forward. He was being silly, and ridiculous, and he suspected if anyone in the family knew what he was doing there, it would be fodder for years of stories about how odd he could be. But he felt compelled, to speak to her, to tell her. "You know why I'm here," he said finally. He put his hand into his pocket and felt for the dainty engagement ring he planned to give Sybil later that day. "Today I am going to ask Sybil to marry me."

Saying it aloud made him feel both joyful and full of regret. Joyful because it was love he felt in his heart for Sybil, of that he was certain. It was different, sometimes it was so different, he often didn't know what to think. For all that Sybil was less prone to demanding her way over parties or outings, she could and did dig her heels in over things that Mary would have waved away as beneath her notice. And yet, Sybil's fierceness did remind him of Mary in the purest way.

The regret was for the life with Mary, the life that he still missed. "I miss you," he said quietly. "I still wake up and wonder why you aren't next to me. Sometimes I find myself thinking 'Mary would find that funny, I should tell her' or 'George is so big now, Mary will want him up on a pony soon'. And then I remember." Matthew blinked back tears. "So, never fear, you will be with me always. You will always be my Mary, the first woman that broke my heart, the mother of my child, the woman who I fell in love with the moment I saw her. If you were here, there would be no other, and you know that because poor Tom was right, there was no one for me as long as you walked the earth."

He sighed. "And that is the crux of the matter. And you'd smile, and call me a lawyer for pointing out the obvious. I can't ask your permission and if you were really here, you'd have no reason to grant it. But I didn't come here to ask your permission. I came to tell that... if I do love another, it doesn't mean I love you any less." He found himself smiling. "I imagine, since you're in the afterlife, that you have finally met my father and know how wise he is, but just in case you haven't, let me share something he told me about love." Matthew let the memory play out in his mind. "I was a very little boy, and I had asked him how he could love both Mother and I, didn't he run out of love? And he said that love was quite magical, the more love you gave someone, the more you received and that more you had to give to others. When it comes to love, the well is always full. I will always love you, Mary. Nothing will ever change how I love you."

It felt right to say. Even better, he felt a sense of peace, as if she was there, nodding agreement. Frowning a little, her brow creasing the same way George's did, because her very nature told her to disagree, but then nodding agreement because she couldn't deny the sense of it. He stood up, and felt a wave of relief. It's a new path, he told himself, a new life to live. I never would have grudged her a new life if I had been the one to die, he reminded himself, it's time to accept what my new life has given me.

0o0o0o0

"Look who I found," Barrow said cheerfully as he stepped into the small study. Sybil looked up from the business bookkeeping and smiled at the squirming bundle Barrow held.

"Katie, have you gotten away from Nanny again?" It was hardly a surprise, Sybil thought with no small amount of amusement. Katie was a spritely little toddler, and the mischief always gleamed in her eyes.

"Not only did she get all the way to the main staircase," Barrow intoned, his eyes also gleaming with mischief, "she managed to take Master George's little cars and roll them down the stairs. Mr. Carson noted that it makes quite the clatter."

"Aren't you terribly naughty," she said as she took Katie from Barrow. "Running off by yourself, taking someone else's toys, smiling wickedly when caught…"

"It's almost as if she was Lady Mary's child," Barrow smiled as he spoke.

Sybil shook her finger at him. "Don't think Papa hasn't said that, and warned me thoroughly, but no… Tom told me too many stories of his mischievousness as a boy. Mother Branson said he had a streak of devil inside him and I know exactly where Katie gets that from."

"Oh, I don't know, milady," Barrow retorted, his eyes twinkling, "I somehow recall Katie's mother being well known for her many mischievous exploits. Wearing bloomers, running off to be a war nurse, marrying the chauffeur…"

She chuckled as she sat down and held Katie. "Yes, I was quite the trial, you needn't remind me further, Barrow." She looked at Katie and smiled. "She is the very image of Tom."

"She has your eyes, milady," Barrow disagreed gently. "But I otherwise agree." He hesitated, clearly considering his words carefully. "I won't pretend that Mr. Branson and I were friends, but we likely didn't get along because he was a much better person than I."

"Oh Barrow," she said softly, "Don't say that. You have a good heart, you should let people see it more. Even Tom said that." She kindly left out how grudging that admission had been. Tom hadn't exactly despised Barrow, but he had found her liking of the man to be odd.

"That's more kindness from him than I expect or deserve." His eyes lowered. "For what its worth, I have regrets over how he and I squabbled. I'm glad for his sake and yours, that you were lucky enough to have a child. And…" He paused, clearly unsure if he should continue.

Sybil encouraged him. "And what?" She had a feeling she knew but it was interesting to have anyone say it, more interesting that it was Thomas Barrow.

"And you have a right to move on and be happy with someone else." Barrow took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "We all dance around Mr. Matthew, and his feelings. I think you know as well as any of us that his grief and difficulty hasn't gone unnoticed, but for all the times he's encouraged by others, you're always there as well. And perhaps it's only fair that someone encourage you."

"You approve of my courtship, I take it?" She smiled as he nodded. It was a courtship soon to end, she was certain Matthew was nearing the point where he was ready to go further, but she appreciated the kindness Barrow wanted to show her. He reminded her of Mary, both in looks and in how there was a warm heart under all the awfulness he projected outward.

"You couldn't have chosen a better man," Barrow said it matter of factly, as if it was understood. "He will love you and respect you, and he will always be mindful of your first love, just as you will be mindful of his. I just think it should be said, out loud, to you, that Tom Branson loved you dearly and would have wanted you to be happy and would never have expected you to stay unmarried. You deserve happiness and togetherness, just as much as Mr. Matthew, and you deserve to hear, from someone who at least knew your husband that he loved you so dearly, he would have done anything to make you happy. As much as we didn't get along, I knew that about him and never doubted his love for you. If he couldn't be with you, he would want you to be happy with someone else."

I know that, of course I know that, she wanted to say. She had never once doubted it, it was Matthew who she suspected had many dreary days and nights pondering what Mary wanted. But, she realized as she looked into Thomas's worried eyes, Thomas is reaching out, to perform a kindness. I must do him the same, she thought, because he deserves to have kindness in his life just as much as I do. "Oh, Thomas, thank you. I think I always knew it, but its so good to hear it from someone who… perhaps knew Tom better than you think. Because it feels so very right, Thomas, and you're a good friend to take such care to tell me." She leaned in conspiratorially, hoping he'd find it pleasing to be in the know. "Matthew has asked me to join him tonight, before dinner. To talk. But I think what he really wants is to ask me something. Something I think I will be saying yes to."

Thomas smiled, a genuine light coming to his eyes. "That sounds lovely, milady. And thank you for the warning. Perhaps I can arrange for some champagne to be chilled, if you think there might be an announcement?"

"That and perhaps some sort of chocolate tart or cake for dessert?" Sybil laughed. "Matthew denies it, but he has a sweet tooth. I give him credit, he rarely indulges it but I think tonight he might want to."

"What's this?" Matthew stepped in from the hallway, a smile on his face. "Sybil, are you conspiring with Barrow against me?"

"Conspiring to please you," she shot back merrily, as she handed Katie back to Barrow. "Did you come to check on the books? Because it looks like we're looking at another profitable season. Papa will be horrified with our business deals and pleased that the coffers are filled to the brim."

Matthew leaned over the desk and perused the papers as Barrow left. "I think your father has come around to the business. Seeing the estate flourish, not having to worry how the bills will be paid, I imagine it's a relief for him to know that Downton Abbey will remain strong for at least the next few years. A few years in the green instead of the red will do us all good." Then he looked her in the eyes, eyes that suddenly sparkled in a way she had come to find delightful. "I don't know how to do this. I've never really mastered it. God knows Mary made me repeat myself. I thought I'd ask you to take a walk and I'd take you down to the front gates and we'd probably dance around it playfully and eventually I'd stutter out my question and… We've danced around each other, and played old roles for too long. I want the new dances and games to be different and perhaps a bit more straightforward." He took a deep breath. "I love you, Sybil. I want to marry you. Will you be my wife?"

For a second, her words were caught in her throat. Because it was so different, so different from Tom who had been both more nervous and more assured of the answer. But, as she met Matthew's eyes, the small doubts left her. "Oh, yes, Matthew. Yes, I will marry you." He pulled her into an embrace, and kissed her. The kiss was a surprise, not that they hadn't shared kisses before but she realized the chaste kisses of before were just that, chaste. Now he was kissing her with intent, with the promise of more to come than just a kiss, and she realized all too well that she was more than ready for it. After a long moment, she forced herself to pull back. "Enough!" she said with a laugh. "I said yes, you don't have to display all your feathers at once to attract me. I should warn you, you'll need to tell everyone as soon as we're called to dinner. I'm sure Rose will guess immediately."

Matthew chuckled. "As if I have such a poker face."


End file.
